


That Summer, 1935

by baeconandeggs, floweryyeol



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Dark Magic, Language, M/M, Mentions of homophobia, Mild sexual situations, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-31
Updated: 2017-05-31
Packaged: 2018-11-07 02:05:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11049030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeconandeggs/pseuds/baeconandeggs, https://archiveofourown.org/users/floweryyeol/pseuds/floweryyeol
Summary: A circus with pitch black tents rolls into the city for two nights only. There is no record of its existence or of the people who run it, but when it disappears, ordinary citizens disappear along with it. Enter, Baekhyun Byun, a Federal Agent with everything to prove by following his instincts. But when he chases the truth he discovers with horror that everything in this world is not as it seems – sometimes the truth is more terrible than the lie.





	That Summer, 1935

**Author's Note:**

> AUTHOR: [floweryyeol (LJ)](https://floweryyeol.livejournal.com/) // [CannibalQueen (AFF)](https://www.asianfanfics.com/profile/view/867373)  
> PROMPT #: 580  
> 
> 
> Disclaimer: The celebrities' names/images are merely borrowed and do not represent who the celebrities are in real life. No offense is intended towards them, their families or friends. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this fictional work. No copyright infringement is intended. 
> 
> Author's Note: I just want to really thank all of the mods for putting up with me and my one thousand extensions I asked for, should they choose to actually let this fic into the fest, haha. This is my first time writing off a prompt and entering a fest, so I want to thank you all for dropping by to give it a read. I’ve always loved fantasy and horror but I’ve never really given it the good ol’ College Try, so I really wanted to challenge myself by selecting a very ‘different’ prompt. Anyways, please don’t be intimidated that this fic was written mainly from Baekhyun’s perspective – I made a conscious choice to write in first person so that horrors would seem more intuitive and real. SO, thank you lots and lots and I hope you enjoy!

\- PROLOGUE -

In the summer of 1983 I unwittingly stumbled upon a terrible secret.

I spent that horrid season in the basement of the FBI’s Hoover building, where I worked, cleaning out cold case files for which the statute of limitations had long expired. The dusted up files only wasted precious space that we so desperately needed, what with how many fingers our organization had in how many pies nowadays.

My co-worker, Gurwin, and I had been in that basement for days, sleeves rolled up past our elbows and positively melting in the damp stale air that refused to circulate even with a fan. I was buried in paperwork, eyes dully skating over lines and lines of material when very suddenly a case caught my attention.

I suppose it shouldn’t have, considering how little lines were on the page, but maybe then again that was what inexplicably drew me to it in the first place.

The folder contained only a single sheet of paper, a hastily typed police report for a fire that had occurred in the fall of ’35 on the grounds of a circus. It was scarce in content, noting only that the fire was thought to have begun early in the morning on the 1st of November, and raged on until nearly noon – a case of suspected arson. However, the files contained nothing of suspects, evidence, or inquiries made towards the former two, and indicated only that much of the material was in fact sorted within another casefile.

Really, it was nothing of much interest. But freshly out of the academy, I was full of a vigorous tenacity and curiosity for mystery that demanded satisfaction. Besides, how was I to determine if the file should be thrown out if I didn’t even have the full facts of the case?

I stood from where I’d been seated on the grey grimy floor and moved to the rows of shelves, shifting through dozens of cardboard boxes that boasted barely readable fading labels.

“Eddie?” I called across the room after a few minutes when I was unsuccessful, and my co-worker grunted in acknowledgement. “Have you seen box 167-dash-A anywhere?”

He turned to me from the desk in the corner, looking stoically over the rims of his round glasses, the reflection of the computer in front of him bright in his eyes. “I’m sure we went through the 160’s on Friday. Whatever’s left should have been shifted to row E.”

I nodded and moved towards the back of the room, fingers dancing over the edges of the boxes until finally I found it. When I pulled it from the shelf it was horrifyingly light, and when I opened it my fears were confirmed. The file I had been looking for had been thrown out already - more precisely, it had been burned.

I scratched my head with a defeated sigh and pushed the box back into place on the shelves, convinced that I’d know no more about what I’d already dubbed in my head ‘the mysterious circus fire’. And with a heavy heart I tossed the connected file into the ‘Burnable’ pile.

Despite my defeat, I put it out of my mind for the duration of my shift, but I couldn’t help but notice as it lingered in the back of my mind – a scratch I couldn’t reach.

How I now wish that my curiosity had ended at that disappointment.

Instead, I received another opportunity.

As I left the office at the end of my shift I happened to walk past the boiler room, and noticing it had been taped off I went to find the custodian in charge. The furnace had been broken since the previous Thursday, and so I made a casual inquiry to find out what had happened to all the files that needed to be destroyed. Apparently, they had sat untouched all weekend inside the room. I thanked the man and left in the opposite direction before hastily turning down an adjoining corridor and looping back in secret to the boiler room. I slipped past the tape and went inside. There was nothing particularly illegal about sneaking into a closed room and peeking at an old file. But I do admit it was all rather suspicious behavior. There was nothing wrong with me looking as long as I didn’t take the file, and that is what I had planned to do… initially.

However,  _that_  decision had been made before I read the damned thing.

The first thing I noted was the worn edges, the yellowing paper, water stains that seemed to have been wiped from the pages. The file was thick with information, none of it to do with the circus, but rather contained what seemed like dozens of missing persons reports, all spanning through the summer of ’35.

The second thing I noticed was its archaic style. At the time it was written the Bureau was hardly 20 years old, and the system within the file was nothing like I had grown used to or learned. But despite the informality, the actual writing style, in opposition, was surprisingly formal.

It seemed that the case remained unsolved even though it passed through a number of agents’ hands – young people between the ages of 18 and 22 were going missing all around the country, and it seemed to me to be more like a collection of individual cases than anything put together. It seemed that was what the director at the time had decided too, and dismissed any theory of conspiracy behind the disappearances. However, I noted at the bottom of one of the early meeting minute’s pages that the secretary for that day had made a quick remark.

_‘Byun mentions the circus again.’_

_Ah!_ I thought immediately, and began to hurriedly leaf through the rest of the document. Finally, at the end of the folder there was a police report wedged in between two missing person cases, and it seemed to have been written by one of the officers assigned to the case, but not the one that mentioned the circus. However, seemingly, it had nothing to do with the rest of the file, and in fact was the missing report on the circus fire.

Yet, it could be no coincidence that these things were put together, and so with a growing sense of dread I decided to read on.

 

 

  
  


 

 

It read:

Case No:                          0110135079

Officer In-charge:    Beaufort, Jacob

Reporting Officer:    Beaufort, Jacob

Date:                      11/01/1935

Police Code:           52f – Fire,

447 – Arson,

29 – Death

Incident Summary:            A 911 was received at approximately 02:00 about a fire in the general facility of the L’ Cirque de Minuit Noir. The fire department responded and arrived by approximately 02:45 and spent over eight hours controlling the blaze before they cleared the area as safe. L’ Cirque was reported as destroyed and officers arrived at the scene to find at least 40 unidentified bodies. Fire department investigators have declared they suspect arson to be the cause of the blaze.

Personal Report:

On the day of the event, mid-morning had ushered an Indian Summer into the River Parishes, heating the Louisiana marsh to a balmy 91 degrees and wetting the air with slick humidity. But it is known and recorded that by the late afternoon the skies had cleared and the temperature dropped drastically into the night - as drastically as swamp weather will allow.

Indeed, experts have stated that weather conditions could not have started the fire, but its assumed cause is still controversial. What is agreed upon, however, is that the fire sparked to life near the south-east corner of the grounds occupied illegally by L'Cirque de Minuit Noir in the tent identified by survivors as the owners’. While the body of the owner has not yet been recovered, the bodies of at least 40 other members of the troupe –performers and stage hands alike - have been tentatively identified and classified as victims of the blaze. It is unknown what type of accelerant was used, only that the fire spread so rapidly as to catch most of the troupe completely unaware. As many of the troupe entered the country illegally, it is not known how many have yet to be uncovered or identified due to the lack of documentation. However, we are continually receiving reports from the surviving stage crew.

Of what else happened that night, little is known. It is speculated that the troupe arrived in the area on Sunday and illegally squatted on the grounds until the blaze began Thursday evening. The fire began somewhere between then and midnight, and it continued to burn well into the following morning, giving firefighters repeated trouble as it continued to flare long into almost the afternoon on the 1st.

There are no witnesses as to the start of the blaze, but locals informed authorities that they noticed the sky turn red just around midnight, as was previously speculated. However, the adequacy and truth of these reports has been questioned by many due to the nature of the stories, though many came to the same conclusions. The initial 911 report was made by an anonymous individual, which we originally believed to be a member of the troupe. However none of them stepped forward to claim so.

At this point, being in the area, I was summoned to the site and ordered to gather as much information as I could. I met with my partner – Adam Franklin - who had already been near the scene and in lieu of the situation we decided to put our current investigation of Byun on hold – See: IA0070535052.

The local reports were as thus, and I have added these accounts to the report only as a precaution that all witnesses be taken into account.

However one strange story that was agreed upon by most of the locals cannot for certain be associated with the L’ Cirque de Minuit Noir.

The place that the Creole live in this parish is deep within the mangrove, an area sparsely covered by land and filled with twisted and mangled root. It has been said that the mists in these river forests can drive a man mad were he to become lost within them, and superstition and voodoo have long been relevant in these parts. So I am uncertain which tale they told me can be seen as fact and which as narrative. However, the most common facts from the stories were as thus:

Many that were in their homes long before the fire was discovered heard wailing and crying in the swamp that night, followed by terrifying maniacal laughter. It was the laugh of the Devil himself, they said, echoing through the quiet night. The heat of the day had left the skies clear and let the stars shine down to the water, so there was a rare clarity between the trees on the river. And what many saw running, dodging, between the groves in the moonlight nearly drove them mad.

Here, the accounts differed. Some swore it was a man, others a woman with skin pale as snow, wearing red gloves up to her elbows. One claimed it had a fox for a head, a creature not of this earth. Too many others claimed it had a tail - too many for me not to think it odd. And yet another told me they had seen it clearly, a small man wearing an oversized coat, running like the devil with the clothe trailing after him like wings. All these accounts, though ridiculous, assured me that something or someone had been seen that night, whether it related to the fire or not.

However, the conclusions of these reports chilled me to the bone, and I thought that whether these stories be fact or fable I am certainly glad I had never witnessed anything like it.

The last thing each of them told me of was the sound – the sound of

 

 

 

 

 

 

There, the report halted abruptly, and I took myself by surprise, not realizing how loudly I could hear my own heart thumping in my ears. But I thought immediately that I must be mistaken – I must have skipped a page, and frantically I flipped back and forth through the file. Only when I examined closer did I realize that there were a few marks in the corner of the police report, a few scraps of paper indicating that a page, or pages, had been torn away. And even more curious, the back of the previous page was stained with water, or more likely from the way the droplets fell, one by one from above, tears.

I sat on the floor of the room in defeat. I had come so far and seen so much, only to be bested by one page? The end of the story was near. I could feel it. It was no coincidence that the page had been torn there, no coincidence that the case of the fire had been shoved in this particular file. Something nagged at me.

_‘Byun mentions the circus again.’_

_Ah,_ I thought, and flipped back into the fire report. There lay the connection. Beaufort had said it himself in his report, ‘Byun.’ He and his partner had decided to put their investigation of Byun on hold, but why was he being investigated in the first place? The case number confirmed my theory – ‘IA’ meant that the case had gone through Internal Affairs, and likely Byun did not know he was being investigated at all… But if Byun was a part of the team working the kidnappings then why did he mention the circus, and what part did he have in the fire that eventually put an end to it?

I flipped back to the first page and stared at the case number. Though the physical manifestation of this case was being thrown out, part of mine and Gurwin’s duties had been to manually log all relevant information from every file we inspected into our new companywide computer system. Any relevant information concerning past employees of the Bureau would already be online, so with almost no second thought I pulled the report from the file and folded it up, stuffing it into a hidden pocket within my coat.

And with resolute determination I rose from the floor and snuck back down to the basement. Gurwin had locked the door and turned off the lights before he’d left for the night, but I was craftier, easily picking the lock with a kit I kept on my person and slipping back into the dark room. I felt my way back to the desk in the corner and powered up the slow computer. My eyes strained in the utter darkness to find the letters on the keyboard, but after trial and error I was able to begin a system-wide search for anything related to ‘Byun.’

It didn’t take long with such an uncommon name.

From what I could tell, Agent Baekhyun Byun had a very short-lived career at the Bureau, working only on a handful of cases and solving even fewer. However, each case he took on was of relatively high profile, and - even more shocking – he retired shortly after the Circus case was concluded, in the spring of 1936.

Next, I moved onto the Internal Affairs report, which had been made public record about a year after Byun was no longer employed with the Bureau. There was much of interest. It seemed that in the summer of ’35 Byun had taken a personal leave of absence, but only after blowing up at his superior officers in regards to another case. About a month passed before Internal Affairs began looking into his disappearance and they found him by then in the South, trailing the Cirque du Minuit Noir as it made its stops. They had been sent to prove that Byun was investigating the Cirque outside the jurisdiction of the Bureau and determine if this was cause for termination.

The file ended inconclusively with the fire. Byun was not terminated and the case against him never made it through the system. He went on to work a few more small cases before retiring very suddenly with what seemed like a full, easy career laid out before him. This was even more cause for speculation.

Something must have happened to shake him… it must have.

I couldn’t stop myself as I raced through his profile with giddy excitement and before I knew it I was taking note of his last known address and calculating how long it would take me to drive.

I shut down the computer and slipped out of the room as quiet as a mouse and took my excitement home with me. All night as I lay in bed I tossed and turned until I was nauseous with sleep deprivation, and then finally I succumbed to my dreams.

In my dream I relived the day, but it wasn’t until I was halfway through it that I realized something was amiss. The beating of my own heart was far too loud, and with every step closer to that furnace room the beating grew louder and louder and more out of sync until I realized that the heart wasn’t mine at all. With fear clenching tight in my chest I opened the door and knelt down by the boxes. Inside should have been the file I was looking for, but every inch closer the reckless thumping grew more devastating until finally I lifted the lid. There, on the mass of papers was a great thumping red thing, covered in blood and oozing more with every beat – a heart.

I woke with a start, sweat covering my body and dripping from my brow. As I tossed the covers back and jolted out of bed I noted that it was only 5 AM. But I could not wait any longer. My curiosity was too strong, and eager to know the truth I rushed through my morning routine, dressing and brushing up in a flash before I flew out the door and into my car.

The drive was not long, only about an hour and a half south of D.C. and into a small, but beautiful, colonial-era town with white picket fences and well-manicured lawns. On the edge of town there was a quiet street with only a few cars, and in the middle of it surrounded by hedges lay the address I sought.

It was already 7 but the morning was still misty, and my heart seemed to still be erratic from last night’s dream - pounding with either nervousness or anticipation I couldn’t say.

Over half an hour I sat in the car, my heart in constant fits of unease, when suddenly the door of the house swung wide and out trudged an old man. He was small and quite hunched over, but he walked with relative ease out onto the stoop to collect his paper. Then he went back indoors and my heart finally stilled.  

There was nothing to be nervous over, right?

I simply wanted to know details of an old investigation, and there was nothing suspicious about  _that._ And yet, even though I assured myself over and over again that all was well, the greater my sense of dread grew.

 _There must be something more to this case,_ I told myself.  _There must._

Just then, a knock came on my window so suddenly that I leapt from my seat in fright, practically launching myself across the car. Staring down at me from outside was the old man, wearing a crooked smile across his face and a look of concern. I could tell from a glance that he had been quite handsome when he was younger, and even now the smoothness of his face suggested youth beyond his age. But I had hardly time to study his features before he knocked again quite impatiently.

I cleared my throat and cranked down my window, just enough for voices to pass through.

“Are you going to sit in that damn car all day or do you need a formal invitation to come inside?” he asked gruffly to my surprise.

I must have shown my shock because he rolled his eyes and waved a hand for me to follow, then he began to walk across the street back towards his house. I swallowed dryly, and the hollow feeling in my chest ached with nervousness, but with shaky hand I opened the car door and followed him.

He didn’t speak again until I had crossed the threshold, and only then was it to tell me to sit down. Then for a few minutes he tinkered around in his kitchen, and the only noises I could hear were of cups and glasses and the dull wobbling thud of a ticking clock that must have been somewhere in the hallway – it sounded so muffled and odd.

In the meantime I looked around the room and found much of it bare, but it was what one could normally expect of a single man of his age. There were a few old pictures here and there scattered among the shelves and tables, but hardly any seemed to feature him. There was one on the mantel place in black and white, clearly taken from his graduation photos for the FBI Academy – I recognized that same background from my own.

My thoughts and observations were interrupted when he sauntered back into the room carrying a tray of cups and a steaming pot of coffee.

“Do you take it black, Son?” he asked.

I shook my head, “With milk if you have it.”

He nodded and laughed. “I never cared for when my superiors called me ‘Son.’ But now that I’m old I seemed to have gotten into the habit myself - not that I have the opportunity much recently. I hardly get any visitors these days, you see. And it’s been a  _long_  time since anyone from the Bureau has paid me a visit.”

I started. “The Bureau?”

He raised an eyebrow. “You  _are_ from the Bureau, aren’t you?”

I took a quick sip of my beverage to ease my nerves before I answered. “I am. What gave me away?”

“Son, I’ve been watching you since you pulled up in front of my house. I don’t sleep much – I never have – so I took a quick peek outside as soon as I heard a car cut the engine out front. Your vehicle is regulation,” he took a look up and down at my collared shirt and trench coat, “and your clothes may as well be too. I know an agent when I see one. I used to be one myself, but I’m sure you knew that. Anyways,” he finally sat down across from me and folded his hands in his lap, the intimidating aura of a superior agent falling across his face, “how can I help you?”

I gulped and set my coffee back onto the tray, and reached slowly into my coat pocket, extracting the weathered report.

“Sir,” I began, taking a deep breath, “Mr. Byun, my name is Suho Kim, and I’m here to ask you about the serial kidnappings that took place in 1935… and more specifically, what they have to do with a circus fire.”

I watched as his entire body went rigid, down to the curls of his mouth, and he reached for the report slowly as I slid it across the table. When he extended his hands I could see horrible scars across the palms, dark burn marks that made my stomach wrench. He didn’t speak so I continued softly.

“You were right. I  _am_ an agent, but no one sent me here. I just… I just wanted to know the truth, you see? No, of course, this is very shocking,” I rambled. “I just graduated from the academy last year, and Gurwin and I have been stuck in that basement for so long throwing away files that I just-“

He tore his gaze away from the file, suddenly looking at me, and I was shocked to see that his eyes were clouded with tears. “The statute of limitations has passed, hasn’t it?”

I nodded, and he smiled, sinking back into his arm chair. He made no sound as he flipped the pages of the report back and forth, his eyes skimming every line at least twice. I watched him in silence, my heart beating rather loudly in tune with the sound of the strange ticking clock. Then finally after a moment he turned to me.

“You’re clever, aren’t you?”

I was taken aback, but I cleared my throat, “I’d like to think so, Sir. I graduated at the top of my class.”

He nodded. “Clever but not wise, eh?”

“Pardon?” I squeaked.

He laughed heartily and tapped the paper in his hands. “Clever enough to figure out something was amiss, and clever enough to find me. But maybe not wise enough to hide your intentions.”

“What do you mean?”

“What  _do_ I mean?” he repeated, his eyebrow raised in surprise. “Obviously something about this report was suspicious enough to have caught your interest, and clearly you’ve tracked down the most suspicious one in this whole matter since you’ve deduced that I was the reason for the connection between these two cases… You’re clearly wary of me –  _that_ I can see from your posture - which means you at least have the good sense to realize that there’s possibility I could have been criminally involved in all this, considering the Internal Affairs investigation. And yet you made it clear to me when you arrived that you came here alone, probably without telling anyone what you were up to judging by how you’ve clearly ripped this report from its file.” He chuckled lowly. “No, that I would not consider wise… but neither am I.”

My hands trembled as he rose from his chair, fearful of this horribly clever man and what he would think to do with me. But instead he crossed the room to the fireplace and reached for a small music box that sat directly in the middle. When the box opened, a haunting ballet melody filled the room with its chime for a moment. But he shut it in a hurry after pulling a scrap from it. He crossed back over to me and extended it across the coffee table, and slowly, cautiously, I took it.

It was a sheet of paper, browned and decaying and tightly folded into squares. There was nothing remarkable about it, but when I unraveled it I could not believe my eyes – the missing page of the fire report.

It read:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

-the sound of wicked laughter echoing in the trees. I would have thought it to be some strange prank for not the sheer number of people to report it.

But the conclusions of all of their stories were succinct, and from the first to the last time I heard it a shiver ran down my spine. Each claimed that around midnight they were awoken by the cackling, the howling laughter of a madman. In these parts superstition runs rampant, so many who heard the noise said they dared not venture to see the source. But those who were brave enough told me they wish they hadn’t.

The stories all started the same – startling laughter and a strange glow – but in the middle things became jumbled. However, each reported a figure, running through the bog and the glow growing closer and closer with each step. It appeared that the figure was holding something, but whatever it was that could have glowed ‘blood red’ in the middle of the night was beyond comprehension. The figure was indescribable but for that he – his laughter was that of a man’s – was a lengthy figure with a trailing dark cloak.

However, I can say with certainty that none of this frightened me deeply.

What terrified me was the final detail of each story. Lastly, they all swore to me that they heard one final thing, one terrifying sound that grew louder and louder like the beat of a drum with each flying step the figure took through the swamp – the pounding of a human heart.

Of course, I skeptically questioned whether they had not all heard their own hearts pounding in fear, but one man told me:

“My heart was still at that moment, and the sound of  _this one_ rang through my ears, as clear as a drum and as terrible as a death march.”

In turn, multiple witnesses reported hearing the sound – along with the crying and laughter – from inside their houses that night, and without warning this sent terror through my heart.

However, in conclusion, this hearsay cannot for certain be connected to this fire. If the man in the woods were the arsonist or the Devil himself we cannot know on word alone, for I searched the wood myself that morning and found trace of neither man nor beast.

My partner and I will depart tomorrow morning and this investigation will be followed up by the local Sheriff’s office from Lafourche County.

 

 

  
  


 

The report ended there abruptly and moved directly into the legal pages. I turned the paper over and over again in my hand, reading again the unexpected conclusion to the story I sought. My heart thumped wildly against my ribcage, the adrenaline of the truth coursing through me. But still, I was disappointed.

Finally, I sat the paper back on the table between us, and when I looked up he was watching me with expectation.

“Why did you take this?” I asked. “It doesn’t mention you, nor the fire.”

“You’re right,” he nodded calmly. “But I was not in my right mind then, nor should I have been expected to be. I suppose I was afraid someone would read it, ask questions,” he looked me in the eye intensely then. “But time has passed, and I am no longer afraid of those demons.”

My heart pounded harder in anticipation – the truth I sought was close and all I needed was to ask the right questions. But something was holding me back, the sense that I would not like what I found if I dug deeper.

But like I was on autopilot, my tongue kept forming the words. “And what questions would they ask you?”

“Where I’d been for 5 months. What I’d been doing. These were all things I couldn’t tell – not to anyone. Not after what happened.”

I swallowed as I asked my final question, and looking back now I can’t remember really asking it, only hearing the strange mechanical thump of that clock in the hallway ring through my ears.

“What happened to you, Sir?”

He was quiet for a moment, turning to stare at the hallway, and it seemed like he was listening to something,  _for_ something. He turned balefully back to me.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

My head felt like lead as it moved up and down, nodding silently when the words wouldn’t come out.

He shook his head, running his hand through the remainder of his greyed hair, and then he stared at the palms of his hands, clenching and unclenching them around something invisible.

“It’s not a story I’ve told anyone before,” he said. “Not something I ever thought I  _would._ But I suppose there’s something of myself I see in you – young, eager to know the truth. That’s how it began - how I  _was_ when my story began.” He was silent for a moment. “ _Our_ story.”

He looked me dead in the eye as he told me his tale, a story of magic and horror – a story of despair. And all the while I sat with bated breath, my hands shaking with every word and the sound of that damn clock thumping the hours away like a horrid heartbeat.

_Tick-tock. Tick-tock. Th-thump. Th-thump._

 

 

 

\- PART ONE -

The shrill ringing of my alarm clock startled me from a fitful sleep I didn’t even realize I’d fallen into, and I pounded the button on top without mercy until it stopped. Exhausted, I stretched from where I sat, slumped awkwardly half-way between sitting and laying down, and in doing so the papers that lay across my sheets in front of me fluttered down from the bed and to the floor.

I rolled my eyes and ignored them for now, sliding from my mattress and gliding the barely two steps to the other side of the room and into the bathroom. I’m sure the smallness of my apartment would have bothered most people, but for me, finding an affordable apartment in the heart of Manhattan in this economy was nothing less than a miracle.

When I looked out the window, toothbrush in hand staring at the already bustling city below, I didn’t believe there would be anything particularly remarkable about that day. But those papers I had so easily let fall to the floor not a moment earlier changed the course of my history forever.

I slicked back my ebony hair with gel once I had changed into my suit, but as usual the ends couldn’t be managed and stubbornly curled my short hairs back across my forehead.  I sighed and gave up, resigning myself to finally pick up the fallen papers that had scattered around my tiny room.

I shuffled through them again as I began my descent down the four flights of stairs and again when I made it to the street. As I walked my short route to work only three things were on my mind – three names.

Clive Edwards. Ruth Baxter. Simon Williams.

Three souls, not much younger than myself, had all gone missing within the last two days, and every parent had treated the disappearance as a kidnapping. It was my job as Agent-in-Charge to determine whether they should be treated as linked. But for the life of me I could not figure out why.

Each victim was unique – different hair color, eye color, skin color, height, ethnicity and gender – save that they all remained in the same age bracket, 19-21.

No matter what we assured their parents – young people ran away all the time – each insisted that their child would never do such a thing and filed missing-persons reports.

The FBI branch office building was already filled with busy people when I arrived, some agents, some secretaries, and some filing claims of their own. But I passed them all with my nose in my papers, scanning line after line for anything I’d missed. I was always thorough – I hadn’t graduated from the Academy early for nothing.

As soon as the elevator opened to my floor I was accosted.

“Hey, Whiz Kid!” A middle aged man with red hair and a sparkle in his eye swung his arm over my shoulder, pulling me into his office.

“Davis,” I greeted coolly.

He huffed with disappointment. “At least call me George, won’t you?”

“As soon as you call me, Baekhyun, Davis.”

“But you’re such a ‘Whiz,’ Kid!” He smashed his fat hand on the top of my head and ruffled my hair out of place, which always irritated me.

I rolled my eyes but I smiled. Davis was one of the few who hadn’t been intimidated by my initiation into the Bureau. For someone as young as I to be taking a senior position so early rubbed many people the wrong way, and I was often the target of interoffice ‘pranks’ and harassment. But Davis had always treated me like an equal despite our age difference and his seniority, often giving me assistance and advice when no one else would.

“So what’s this about then?” I asked.

“Ah! Right!” he exclaimed, as if he’d forgotten why he’d dragged me in here in the first place. “You’re on that missing-persons case, right?” I nodded, and he pulled a file from the top of his inbox basket and handed it to me. “I found this on Meyer’s desk this morning and thought you might want to take a look at it. It was filed early this morning.”

I scanned the first few pages to be sure, but I’d already realized it by the first line. “Another one?” I almost shouted in surprise.

Davis nodded, his mouth twitching under his thick mustache. “Nancy Stewart, I believe is the name. Her mother claims she didn’t come home last night after going out with her friends, and none of her friends have seen her since. They all thought she went home.”

“That is… odd,” I said simply.

He laughed. “Well, I don’t know if it’s part of your thing but you might want to give the mother a follow-up this morning. Her address is on the last page.”

“No, you may be right. She’s only 19 years old – it fits with the rest. I’ll do that. Thanks, Davis, I owe you one.”

“That’s what you always say!” he shouted merrily as I strode out of his office.

I took only one moment to stop by my desk and make sure there was nothing urgent in my inbox before I left. Then I went directly to my car in the garage, ignoring a particularly nasty jeer from one of my coworkers.

It took half an hour in traffic to get to Brooklyn, where I parked along a suburban drive and walked to the front door of the townhouse. I only had to press the buzzer once before the door opened in a flash and a woman in a nightgown appeared in front of me. I only had to see the expression of disappointment on her face for a moment to realize she had been waiting for her daughter to come home.

“Ms. Stewart,” I began slowly, calmly, and opened the breast of my suit to reveal my gun and badge. “My name is Baekhyun Byun and I’m with the Bureau. May I come inside and speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course, of course!” she said quickly and ushered me inside and to the sofa.

“Ms. Stewart,” I pulled out my pen and notepad, jotting down quick facts, “Your daughter has been missing since last night. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” she said, her eyes threatening tears. “She went out with her friends and hasn’t come back.”

“Ma’am, I will treat this case with the utmost care until your daughter is found but until then I must cover all of my bases. Are you sure there is no chance she decided to run away? No chance she decided to stay with a friend without informing you?”

She looked shocked and taken aback when she answered. “No! Of course not! Nancy would never run away! She is a wonderful- a  _good_ girl. She always tells me where she’s going. And besides, I went to all of her friends’ houses this morning, even the ones who didn’t go to the show. None of them have seen her since last night.”

“Show? Where exactly did your daughter go last night?”

She waved her hand flippantly. “Some circus out in the Bronx. The name was in French so I can’t remember what it was called.”

“And what time was this?”

“They left at 7 to grab a bite to eat and the show started at 8:30. Look, are all these questions really necessary? You should be out there looking for my little girl! Not questioning me like some sort of suspect!”

“Ms. Stewart, I understand how difficult this time is. Please remain calm. The best thing you can do is wait here in case Nancy comes home. Now, I can’t send any officers out looking for her until 48 hours have passed, but I’ll go myself and check out the circus grounds. Do you remember where Nancy said it was?”

Ms. Stewart sniffled a bit and then blew into a handkerchief. “Only that it was on the east side, near the diner.”

I stood from the sofa and straightened my suit. “We’ll give you a call as soon as we know anything. Thank you for your time.”

I let myself out of the building and walked back to my car. With little to no thought I drove until I was in the Bronx, parked in the only field large enough to host a circus.

However, when I arrived there was not a trace of anything having been there. The only evidence something large had resided there was the turned down grass in the center and a few kernels of popcorn I found lying on the sidewalk near the outskirts of the field. It was decidedly too clean for a circus. But I also knew that Ms. Stewart had no need to lie to me. I drove around the district for half an hour more, double-checking there was nowhere else it could have been even though I’d seen a diner nearby.

Finally, I gave up and headed back to the office. Luck, or as I would soon come to realize – bad luck, was on my side that day, because exactly when I entered through the side door from the garage was when the commotion began.

“Are you blind!?” a shrill voice rang out through the lobby. “Look at the blood on my hands! It’s not mine!”

“Ma’am, please calm down and lower your voice. You’re frightening some people-“

“Frightening!?” she demanded, and as I crossed the room to the front desk I could see her waving her bloodied hands in the air. “God forbid I  _scare_  anyone!  _I’m_ scared! I was almost  _abducted!_ I only just barely managed to get away and you’re telling me to stay calm!?”

“What’s going on here?” I asked as I approached the desk.

The secretary let out a relieved breath as I arrived and pointed to the woman. “This girl claims someone tried to abduct her last night and wants to speak with an agent right away.”

“I’ll take her,” I nodded and pointed her to the elevator. “Miss, please come with me and we can talk about this in my office.” I put my coat over her shoulders and lead her away from the lobby.

She shut her mouth quickly and only managed to nod as she followed me. We kept quiet on the elevator ride to the 5th floor but I could see her hands trembling as she stood silently. Once we were in my office I shut the door to give us privacy.

“I’m sorry but will you hold out your hands?” I asked softly. She nodded and held them over my desk. From where I stood I took photos, each flash filling my office with blinding light until I was sure the photographs were thorough. Then I directed her to the bathroom down the hall. Now that I had photos the blood on her hands wasn’t good for anything else, so I sent her to clean up.

She returned a few minutes later, her arms clearly scrubbed up to her elbows, and I sat at my desk across from her, pen in hand.

“Miss? My name is Agent Baekhyun Byun. What is your name?”

“It’s Elizabeth. Elizabeth Ravalli.” She tightened my coat around her.

“And how old are you?” I asked, my suspicions growing.

“Twenty, Sir.”

“Elizabeth, can you tell me what happened? Start as far back as you can remember.”

She shifted uncomfortably in her seat. “My friends and I went to the circus last night, and I-“

“The circus?” I interrupted quickly with surprise. “What circus?”

“L’ Cirque de Minuit Noir,” she said, her eyebrow raised, clearly gauging my reaction. “It’s French. It means-“

“The Circus of Midnight Black, I know. Tell me more about it.”

“Well, it was only in town this weekend, and that’s all I really know.”

“That’s all?”

She nodded. “My friends and I found a flyer early yesterday when we were walking around town and decided to go last night.” She shivered. “I saved the flyer. I did, I swear. But it’s not in my pocket anymore… It must have fell out when… when he grabbed me.”

“When who grabbed you?”

She shook her head, and her eyes started to brim with tears. I reached across the table and gently held her hand.

“It’s okay. You’re safe now… Who grabbed you?”

“I don’t know for sure,” she said. “But I think it was one of the animal trainers. I recognized him from the performance.”

“When did this happen?”

“After the show. I was walking back from the bathroom when I heard a weird noise, but when I turned around he grabbed me.”

“What noise did you hear?”

“Does it matter?” she scoffed.

I nodded, “Anything you can tell me is important.”

“It was like a loud thumping, but mixed with the sound of water.”

I didn’t know if it was really important at the time, but I made a note of it anyway. “What else can you tell me about your attacker? His height, build, hair color, eye color?”

She swallowed and looked at her hands, then closed her eyes, trying desperately to remember. “He was a bit taller than you, but leaner. His skin was tan and his hair was brown. Oh, and his eyes!” She buried her head in her hands, shaking it wildly back and forth.

“His eyes? What’s wrong?” I leaned forward, my hand reaching to place a comforting touch on her shoulder.

She sat up suddenly. “Oh, I know it’s crazy! I know it is. But his eyes were like an animal’s! You know how they shine in light?”

“Like a cat?” I asked, astonished.

“Yes!” she cried. “I know it sounds crazy but I swear! I’ll never forget those eyes for the rest of my life.”

I nodded and swallowed dryly, making a note of it, unsure of what I should think. “How did you get away?” I finally asked.

“I fought him. I kicked him in the knee and clawed at his neck, and that’s why my hands were-“ She broke off there, too emotional to continue, and I nodded in understanding.

I waited until she had regained some composure before continuing. “Did you come here directly? You said you were attacked last night.”

She shook her head. “Once I had…escaped, I ran out of the circus and through the field. I thought he might have been chasing me. It was all dark so I didn’t know where I was. When I finally saw a light I ran for it, and I ended up behind some shop. I meant to pound on the door and ask for help but before I could I passed out. I didn’t wake up until just now, right before I came here.”

“And that’s it? You didn’t make any other stops?”

“That’s right. I came straight here. But the thing is…” She paused, seemingly unsure of herself.

“It’s all right,” I assured her. “You can say it.”

She looked up at me nervously. “I didn’t think I had run very far, so when I woke up I was really surprised.”

“Surprised?”

“There was a field across the street, and I thought that must have been where the circus was… but it was empty.  _Really_ empty.”

Her words struck me harsher than I had expected, and I merely nodded, writing down what she had said as if I hadn’t been phased. Instead, I asked, “Elizabeth? Is there someone I can phone for you? Someone that can come wait with you while we process this report?”

She sniffled into a handkerchief, “My mom.”

About half of an hour later Elizabeth’s mother arrived in the lobby with tear stricken face and thanked me for looking after her daughter. I assured her it was my duty with as much composure I could manage, but my mind was running rampant with thought after thought.

Clearly, something was going on with that circus.

Year after year I learned time and again that coincidence was often never coincidence, and I knew now by the feeling in my gut to heed my own wisdom – somehow, this circus was involved.

The first call I made was to the phone operator, and she gave me the number for the person in City Hall responsible for land rental around the city. But when I spoke with him on the phone he could not tell me the name of the people who had rented that field out in the Bronx that weekend – they didn’t exist. My second call was to my Boss’ secretary, and once I’d hung up the phone I marched directly over to his office.

When I walked in he was just finishing a call and held up a finger to me – I stood silently to the side of his desk. Andrew Baugh was a firm man with a thick handlebar mustache and an upright attitude that I admired but also often hated, simply for the fact that he was often unyielding and stubborn to anything out of the ordinary. But he was also very often kind to me, another reason for my coworkers’ despicable attitudes.

He hung up and gestured for me to sit. “Agent Byun! You’ve made a break in the jewel heist I imagine? The mayor is really breathing down my neck about getting this figured out.”

“Actually, Sir,” I began, shifting uncomfortably in my seat, “that case is on hold while we wait for some witnesses to step forward. Davis and I are trying to convince folks to intercede with us but we have it on the authority of our informant that they are being intimidated in private by the Irish mob. But that’s not what I’m here for. Actually, it’s the kidnappings you’ve assigned to me, Sir. I think I have a lead.”

He looked quite disgruntled. “A lead on which case?”

“All of them!” I said with a bit more enthusiasm than I intended. “I’ve stopped looking at them as separate cases and I’m treating them as linked. See, one of the victims went missing after she went to a circus in the Bronx last night. And this morning, a woman came in and claimed she’d been assaulted and almost kidnapped by one of the circus performers. Now I haven’t corroborated this with the rest of the victims’ families yet but I called City Hall this morning and thought it was a bit suspicious that they couldn’t find-“

“Byun.”

“-the rental papers for the circus to use that plot of land. And-“

“Byun.”

“-with your permission, Sir, I’d like to form a committee to-“

“Byun!” he yelled, completely silencing my exciting rambling. He sighed, “I know you got away with a lot this past year, stepping up and taking charge of that serial killer investigation, but your unchecked boldness will only get you so far here.”

“Sir?”

“We need to deal with chain of command. What I mean is, you can’t begin an investigation based on hunch alone, no matter what your past record is. We need hard facts or we’ll have Internal Affairs busting our balls.”

“But, Sir, the circus is the tie between two of the victims’ already and I’m sure if I could just talk to the families of the other victims then-“

“-then it’s nothing more than circumstantial at this point, Byun. No matter who else you talk to, unless you can  _prove_ that the people at the circus were involved no judge is going to take you seriously. You know this. Until we can prove that a crime that crosses state lines was committed the FBI have no business launching an investigation into this circus. Now, when you leave here you are to turn over authority to the local Sheriff’s department, is that clear?”

My jaw dropped open in shock, but he looked at me with such disdain that I closed it immediately and grit my teeth. “Understood.”

“If they find anything that indicates the FBI will have jurisdiction, then you can pick it back up. But until then, I want you and Davis focusing all of your energy into talking with those witnesses about the heist. I want results by Monday. You’re dismissed.”

“Yes, Sir,” I said as civilly as possible. But once I had left his office I let my displeasure show. I knew the local authorities would botch this, but to be thorough I called the Sheriff’s department anyway.

They told me almost right away that the investigation was not a priority, and that they were currently all tied into a case of localized serial arson – at that point I practically slammed the telephone back into the receiver. I sat with my chin in my hand at my desk, my fingers drumming on the wood for only five minutes before I made up my mind.

I was young and irrational, but I was nothing if not determined, and with stubborn resolution I called every FBI office in the surrounding states and every Sheriff’s department within 300 miles asking them to put the word out – find L’ Cirque de Minuit Noir.

There was nothing wrong about this per say – I simply wanted to keep an eye on them, nothing more, and the more local agencies I got involved the sooner I would find them. But I couldn’t help but endeavor to keep my actions hidden, finally unlocking my door and slipping out quietly when the day was done.

In the following days I struggled to balance the work I should have been doing with the secret I was keeping. Davis was always within proximity while I was working the jewel heist case, so I had to do my secret investigations during my breaks. During lunches I went around interviewing the families of the victims, none of which had returned and all of which I assumed had been kidnapped… but I never told them that. I simply reassured them that the FBI was doing everything in its power to find them and asked questions about the nights of the disappearance. Only one of the families even remotely thought their son may have visited the circus the night of his disappearance, but despite their doubts about its involvement I remained unconvinced. Baugh also came around my office a few times that week, but mostly in the presence of Davis. I put on my best smile and assured him we were making headway with our case, all the while deliberately running around behind his back.

It wasn’t until Monday that something changed.

At around 11 I had gone out to talk with the jewelry store owner, getting ahead on work so I would have more time in private to ask people about the circus. I had meant to return around noon but had gotten a new lead from a witness on the street and so I returned a bit later than I usually did. So when I came back to the office Davis was waiting for me in my office.

“Shut the door,” he said stoically when I walked in Somehow, from the look on his face alone I knew what this was concerning.

I crossed the floor and sat at my desk. “What’s going on?” I asked sheepishly.

He raised an eyebrow, “I think you know.”

“I know a lot of things,” I said cheekily. “Some of which are pertinent, some of which are irrelevant. To what specifically are you referring?”

Davis rolled his eyes. “I happened to be in your office – waiting for  _you_  I might add – when you received a phone call. I answered with the intention of taking a message, and was very shocked to hear that the Cirque de Minuit whatever just rolled through Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.”

I started, gripping the arms of my chair tightly to keep from leaping from my seat entirely. “That’s great!”

“Is it? Because I thought the Director told you to lay off that investigation and focus on the jewel heist? Or did you forget?”

“It’s a… different circus?”

“Oh, Baekhyun,” Davis sighed, and slid down into the chair opposite me, his head in his hands. “Don’t do this.”

“Do what?” I folded my arms across my chest indignantly.

“Make something out of nothing. We both know you were lucky the last time but the Director isn’t going to tolerate your Go-Get-It attitude forever if you don’t bring anything to back it up with.”

I frowned heavily. “If you recall, that ‘attitude’ was what lead me to the killer, and if I hadn’t gone with my gut more innocent young women may have been killed before we were anywhere near him. Besides, how am I supposed to find evidence if I can’t investigate?”

“Let the local authorities handle it! They’re not incompetent! If you point them in the right direction then-“

“Then they will do their best at the speed of local government!” I quieted and tried to steady my voice before I began again. “George, we both know it will take time, and time is something these people don’t have – these  _kids._ It’s been over a week already. You know the statistics. The longer we wait the harder it will be to find them. Just… this one last time, turn a blind eye. Let me do what I can.”

“And if you’re fired?” he asked after a moment.

“Then so be it.”

Davis ground his teeth and scratched his head but stood and moved toward the door.

“George, do we have an agreement?”

He shook his head with displeasure. “Just this once, Baekhyun.”

Once he was gone I sighed and peeled the note off the corner of my desk. In Davis’ writing was the number and name of the caller from the Pittsburgh FBI branch office – I smiled.

The news I received was both enlightening and disheartening. The circus had passed through Pittsburgh over the weekend, vanishing as mysteriously as it had appeared, but there had been no missing person’s reports at all. I made the agent double check for any reports that had come in that morning but he assured me that no one was missing.

The scrap of good news was that he had managed to find out where the circus would be stopping next, and my heart leapt at this opportunity. The only question was how far was I willing to go to prove I was right?

In two days’ time my decision was made for me.

My fellow agents and I sat stiffly in the conference room on the third floor, listening intently to Director Baugh’s weekly performance report and staff meeting – his secretary sat in the corner as always, taking meeting minutes. Davis and I gave him a short update on the jewel heist case and witnesses about half an hour into the meeting. It was after that that the trouble began.

“And so, in order to succinctly close this case we’ll need further assistance from local law enforcement. But until more witnesses intercede and more evidence is found we cannot pin the crime on McKinney or his Family,” I finished and waited for Baugh to ask further questions.

Baugh nodded. “What further evidence do you hope to find?”

“Details such fingerprints or footprints, Sir.”

“Maybe if Byun wasn’t so preoccupied with his ‘side-show’ then he would have found it by now,” Another agent - Stan Baker - muttered loudly without care from the back of the room.

A few others snickered at this, and I could feel my face begin to glow a beet red when Baugh turned to look at me.

“Side-show?” he asked, his face heating visibly. “This better not be about that damn circus.”

I glared at Baker, and I saw him smile wickedly before I answered. “Sir, It’s nothing. I simply made phone calls to our neighboring offices to check whether they knew anything regarding it.”

“And to every county sheriff’s office within one hundred miles of here,” laughed Baker.

“How did you know that?” I asked, growing angrier by the second.

“I’m friends with the operator,” he smirked. “Insane use of the phone lines tend to stand out to people like that, you know?”

I could feel myself blush quite fiercely, but I tried to keep my composure. “Nevertheless, it hasn’t interfered with my work on the jewel heist case. If anything, I’ve been putting in the extra work-“

“Byun, I have heard enough!” shouted Baugh, and I snapped my mouth closed in shock. Davis flinched visibly next to me. “You’re suspended until further notice.”

The papers I had been reading from fell straight through my fingers and scattered all around the floor. Davis stooped quickly to pick them up, but I remained as frozen as a statue.

“What?”

“Suspended, I said.”

I stuttered horribly. “B-but, Sir, I’m nearly there – for both cases! I only need a bit more time to-“

“Quiet!” he interjected. “Byun, I’ve looked past your blatant disregard for my authority once but this is getting out of hand! I warned you-  _ordered you_ to drop the case. If Internal Affairs gets wind of this your ass won’t be the only one on the line. Now, go.”

“Sir, I-“

“ _GO!”_

With shame weighing down my face and shoulders I walked swiftly from the room, Davis following behind me quietly as I gathered my things from my office.

He watched me silently as I shoved my important papers into my briefcase, but he stopped me before I could leave.

“If you’re going to say ‘I told you so,’” I began, “Then don’t bother.”

He shook his head. “I just wanted to tell you that I’ll talk to Baugh on your behalf. We wouldn’t be nearly as far on this heist if it weren’t for you, and I’ll make sure he knows that.”

I put my hand on his shoulder. “You’re a good guy, George.”

When I left the building there was nothing on my mind.

I couldn’t even think about how angry I was at Baker or Baugh – my mind was simply empty. Indefinite suspension could mean anything. I could be absent for a week or a month, and right now I had no way of knowing.

But what had I been thinking? Had I really let myself get suspended for something stupid like this? It had been wrong of me to overstep my superior’s orders… but it sure didn’t feel like it. My gut told me I was right while my greater consciousness told me I should think about what Baugh had said.

 _But Baugh is wrong,_ I thought, and then waved the thought away. That kind of thinking was dangerous. If I thought like that I might get in trouble.

But then I realized, as I stepped inside my tiny apartment, I was already in trouble. I was  _suspended… indefinitely._ I’m sure I was supposed to be reflecting on my actions, but my mind focused on the fact that I was completely free.

I stood in the doorway for a long while, endless possibilities and situations running through my head until I knew I had to act. If I was going to do this I couldn’t half-ass it. If I was going to prove that my efforts until now weren’t a waste then I had to see this thing to the bitter-end – and I would.

The next morning, suitcase in hand, I caught a bus traveling westward to Pittsburgh, and many hours later another that continued onto Columbus where I immediately borrowed a car from a friend and drove around town.

There, just on the edge of the southern border I found it - the circus, a field of pitch black tents with white stars speckling the big top. I simply stared at it with stars in my eyes, wondering what answers I would find here.

I still sometimes wish I had never asked those questions.

 

 

 

\- PART TWO –

“No.”

“C’mon. Just this once.”

“How many times have you said those words to me?”

“No, but I really mean it this time, I swear.” Kyungsoo looked me up and down skeptically, but I pressed on. “You drove all the way from Cincinnati just to see me and now you aren’t even going to spend time with me?” I whined.

He adjusted the buttons of his collar to perfection for the fourth time in the past ten minutes before he answered. He cleared his throat, “It wasn’t just to see you, you know.  _I_ actually have business here, whereas you are-?”

“On vacation,” I said, too quickly.

“In Columbus, Ohio?”

“Nevertheless! It doesn’t change the fact that you pushed your meeting from next week to today just so you could catch me here by surprise.”

Kyungsoo blushed a deep red that covered his entire face, and he sputtered in a sad attempt to counter my response. Things had always been like this between us.

We had met in college and had entered the FBI academy in Virginia together as classmates. We were friends – friends who knew each other’s deepest secrets.

We shared a common fatal flaw, you see, enjoying the company of men over women in a time when such a thing was quite illegal across the country. And we always took refuge in each other’s company. I don’t recall us ever ‘coming out’ to each other in actuality, more that as the time passed us we simply knew – simply understood.

And I suppose he had always been a little bit in love with me, but time and ambition sent us on very different paths – Kyungsoo to the Cincinnati field office and me to New York. We had never really had a chance to make anything work between us, instead remaining great and loyal friends.

It had been almost a year since we’d last crossed paths, so I was enjoying the revelation of having a friend within proximity – a true partner in crime.

“How did you know that?” he finally managed.

I smiled, “Well when I called you the other day you didn’t say anything about being in the area,  _but_ when I went to the sheriff’s department the secretary said she was surprised to see two agents from different offices in on the same day. So I asked – she told.”

Despite the embarrassment on his face I could see his lips turn upwards with a smile as he self-consciously stared at the floor. “Well, nevertheless,” he said, finally straightening up. “That doesn’t dismiss the fact that I do  _actually_ have work to be doing here.”

I pouted once again, attempting to pour out every ounce of my charm in the process. “The show doesn’t start until 8. You can be done by then.”

Kyungsoo sighed and I knew that I had won. “I’ll try,” he said simply.

“Good,” I replied, patting him on the shoulder.

I returned to the motel I’d checked into the night prior. Tonight was Friday, the first of two days of shows before the circus left town again, giving me only two windows of opportunity to investigate it naturally. I needed to sneak in just before show time when everyone was distracted by the upcoming performance. I didn’t really know what I’d do from there - I hardly had a plan for any of this. So, I simply decided to make the decision later and roll with what I found – come what may.

I arrived in the field half an hour before show time and parked my car among many others in the makeshift lot. First, I was surprised to see the scale of the tents up close. They loomed high in ebony masses, and I assumed they would soon be invisible in the night sky, patterned stars blending seamlessly with the real ones above. I remember thinking how odd it was that I had never heard of something so large lying just on the edge of town. Surely, word of it would have gotten around a place like Manhattan quickly enough, but then again… there had been no record of it anywhere…

I was dressed as casually as I could manage, the sleeves of my white button up rolled up to my elbows and black suspenders controlling the waist of my blue trousers. I looked as any other man my age that night as I weaved through the happy crowd, smelling popped corn and hot dogs among the natural odor of circus life. Finally, I reached the edge of the crowd.

There was no actual barrier except one created naturally by the small booths that lined the road to the high top tent, so I simply slipped past one of the vendors and took a small detour.

The world behind the booths was an entirely different place. Men and children dashed back and forth with supplies in hand, making last minute preparations for the upcoming show – hardly anyone would notice someone like me, a wanderer out of place. I kept my eyes forward and wandered about, doing my best to look busy and inconspicuous.

There was nothing odd about the place so far, and I managed to peek into a few of the tents – they were mostly filled with vendor supplies and equipment. Soon enough I was able to pass what I choicely deemed as the tents for ‘regular’ staff and entered the zone of the performers. There, people seemed more relaxed and at ease, and I saw from a distance the lithe people walking around in costume, practicing their acts and warming up. But I didn’t get very far before  _he_ saw me.

He appeared out of nowhere, silent and more beautiful than any man I had ever seen. He emerged from the darkness of the shadow of a tent, catching me completely off guard and by surprise when he loomed over me - as if a giant were looking at a dwarf.

His hair was as dark as the tents surrounding us and the expression on his face was neutral yet eerily foreboding. The most startling, however, was the way his large eyes caught the light, shining like a flash of silver, and had they not been boring directly into mine I would have thought he was blind by the color, milky blue and grey.

“What are you doing back here?” he asked, deep voice rolling like low thunder.

I was not usually at a loss for words, but I gulped as he looked at me and I back at him, my eyes trailing the distance from the thin black shirt on his chest to his long black and white striped trousers.

“I-I,” I stumbled around the words a moment more before clearing my throat. “I got lost,” I said pathetically, “looking for the bathroom.”

I knew immediately that he didn’t believe me, but he smiled, a grin I immediately recognized as fake. “Allow me to escort you back to the light,” he said, the hint of a foreign accent lilting his tone. “It can be dangerous to stray from the path here.”

Just as he spoke I caught a glimpse behind one of the tents, a tiger stalking back and forth through a small cage and a fire eater practicing in the distance. I gulped and turned with no question.

The tall man stood close to me as we walked, his hand resting softly on my lower back in an extremely familiar manner, and I couldn’t help but to notice the coldness of it radiating through my thin shirt. But despite that I could feel my face flushing with heat, not only because the rest of the staff seemed to be staring at the two of us, but also for being in proximity with him.

I had yet to meet a man I was so attracted to at first sight, but as soon as his hand touched me I could feel the familiar heat rise in my cheeks and hear the noisy abnormal pounding of my heart. I couldn’t help but to glance up at him every so often, taking in the sharp curve of his jaw and his long fluttering eyelashes – especially when they encased such captivating eyes.

Before I knew it we arrived at the unofficial line I’d crossed, the place where the vendors’ stands met the road into the tent. And as coincidence would have it, Kyungsoo stood in the middle of it, looking quite surprised to see me coming from the side.

“Now that you’ve reached the road I’ll return to the back,” the tall man smiled down at me, the expression not reaching his eyes.  He pointedly looked Kyungsoo up and down before continuing, “The restrooms are located at the far end of the road.”

With that he turned on his heel and disappeared back into the shadow – now that the sun had set he seemed even more like a ghost. I shuddered lightly.

“The restrooms?” Kyungsoo asked, appearing next to my shoulder with questions in his eyes. “Who was that?”

I lightly elbowed him in the gut. “I got a bit lost,” I said simply. He clearly did not believe me either but only because he knew me better.

“And where did you wander off to?”

“I just wanted to see the performers’ tents.”

“Uh-huh,” he agreed sarcastically and shoved his hands deeply in his pockets, pushing back his suit to reveal badge and gun.

“Kyungsoo!” I nearly screamed before thinking better and pulling him to the side and whispering in hushed tone. “You brought your badge!?”

His eyebrows narrowed. “I just got out of my meeting and raced over so I could meet you in time. There wasn’t exactly time for me to think about what I was wearing. What does it matter?”

I sighed with my hand covering my face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. But now he knows you’re a Fed.”

“Again, I ask?  _So?_ I thought you were on ‘vacation,’” he quoted mockingly.

I glared at him. “I am.”

Kyungsoo’s tone turned serious. “Baekhyun, what’s going on? I mean, really.”

I sighed, but as we entered the high-top for the show I confessed everything. By the time I ended he was full-on frowning and I could feel the beginning of stern lecture coming as soon as he opened his mouth.

But before he could begin the lights around the seats dimmed and the spotlights beamed intensely on a sole figure in the middle of the arena below us. There, bowing in his black top hat was the tall man from earlier. He wore a white pant suit with thick black stripes from head to toe, and each sleeve ended with a dark lace that ran past the length of his fingers. When he stood up in full the spotlight caught a glimmer of his silver eyes and I sucked in breath harshly.

I suddenly remembered Elizabeth Ravalli, and what she had said about a man with animal eyes.

Every breath I took was bated, every word he said kept me on the edge of my seat. I couldn’t take my eyes off the ring as he introduced act after act, showcasing animal tamers, jugglers, acrobats and more.

Every performer dressed in black or white, and the inside of the tent was dark and filled with very few props – it gave off the odd feeling of sophistication and class. Besides which, much of the narration and song were in French.

His accent hadn’t been very apparent, but now that I listened to the ringleader’s voice the tone was unmistakably French. I found my eyes were drawn to him solely everywhere he moved when he was in the ring, and my mouth must have hung open for a great while because when it was over very suddenly my mouth was dry.

The people around me started shuffling away in great numbers before I even realized it had ended, and Kyungsoo tapped me lightly on the shoulder from where he was standing to get up and move. As we exited the tent amidst the mass of people some of the performers were outside to greet us.

I saw the ringleader, tall and smiling, waving happily to people who passed by. I was far from him, but as soon as I looked at him his eyes met mine, his face returning to that horrible faux smile and his eyes turned cold. I turned away quickly, hiding my face behind Kyungsoo, who noticed my distress and led me away quickly.

When we reached the makeshift parking lot we sat in my car for a moment, I, with my head against the steering wheel, and Kyungsoo with his head to the window. I steadied my breathing and erratic heart beat slowly, but my mind was still racing a mile a minute with more information than I knew how to process.

Kyungsoo broke the silence by speaking first, “Well that was… something”

“I know, I know,” I muttered pathetically. “I was distracted the whole time. I couldn’t even take my eyes off the show let alone look for anything suspicious-“

“Me too.”

“-and the ringleader definitely suspected something. Did you see the way he-? Wait. What?”

“I said, me too,” replied Kyungsoo. “I intended to stay alert and keep an eye on things since you seemed to be so out of it but as soon as the show started and the music was playing it was like I couldn’t think of anything else. I had to watch.”

My mouth popped open in surprise. “Don’t you think that’s weird?”

“Zoning out during a mesmerizing show after a long day of work and travel? No, I’d say that’s pretty normal.”

“You didn’t feel like you were… entranced at all?”

It was Kyungsoo’s turn to look at me strangely. “Like we were hypnotized, Baekhyun? Is that what you’re suggesting?”

I slumped back into my seat in defeat. “No, not really anyway. But I mean, it’s like I couldn’t really control myself, you know? And you know I’m not like that.”

He looked at me fondly, “I know.”

The atmosphere was suddenly thick with tension, and I wasn’t sure what to make of it. So I cleared my throat awkwardly and gestured to the emptying field around us.

“It looks like we should clear out.”

Kyungsoo shifted uncomfortably in his seat but nodded, stepping quite quickly out the passenger side door. He walked around to my door and knocked on my window, which I rolled down for him.

He leaned in quite closely, “I’m heading back to Cincinnati tomorrow morning, but don’t be a stranger, Baekhyun.” He looked at me warily. “Be careful. This thing you’re doing - it could be cause for termination.”

“I know,” I sighed.

His forehead crinkled uncomfortably with emotion. “I’m just looking out for you, Baek. And... And if you need any help, you know you can always call me, right?”

I smiled and placed my palm against his cheek – he leaned into the touch. “I know. Thank you, Kyungsoo. Really.”

He coughed awkwardly and stood upright, straightening his suit jacket before turning on his heel and walking back to his car. I watched his retreating back with delight until he disappeared, then I rolled up my window and pulled my car away from the lot. But as I left and picked up speed I caught a glimpse of a darkened figure on the edge of the tent line and a glitter of silver as its eyes caught the light.

I shivered.

The following morning I went out of my way to wake up early to bid farewell to Kyungsoo at his motel. I could tell he was affected that I came to see him so quickly, but everything was comfortable and right between us when we hugged goodbye. Away from the eyes of the public I kissed his cheek and sent him away.

The rest of the day ticked away slowly. I counted the hours idly driving around and exploring the city’s downtown area and relaxing in my room.

But when the sun set and the show began I found myself once again in that field. I sat amongst scores of people in the tent, all who hushed as soon as the music began and  _he_ appeared in the ring. My mind began to wander almost immediately, and I couldn’t take my eyes off of the center stage, drifting into a braindead lull.

It was with great effort that I managed to stay un-entranced. I had to pinch myself several times and punch myself in the leg, but once the pain radiated down I was awake. When the ringleader left the center ring and brought out the first act I also moved.

I shuffled through the rows of hypnotized onlookers and escaped out one of the loose flaps in the tent. Outside it was quiet except for the chirps of crickets and pitch black. I felt my way around in the darkness towards the back where I had been last time and recognized in the very faint light the edge of the border between the performers’ tents and the rest of the staffs’.

I heard the hushed whispers before I saw them. I was just rounding the tent I recognized as the tiger’s and dropped to the grass below me, hiding in the shadow.

“We’re going to get caught!”

“We won’t. I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen.” I recognized the low rumble of his voice right away and my heart skipped a beat.

“We’ve already been investigated once, Chanyeol. With how many we’re taking who’s to say the police won’t come again? Someone is bound to notice. That man came last night!”

“You know what’s at stake here. We can’t stop now.”

I crouched lower and finally peeked around the corner of the tent. The man I vaguely recognized as the animal tamer was shaking his head furiously.

“I won’t do it! It’s too risky!”

The ringleader, the one called ‘Chanyeol’, grabbed the other by the collar of the shirt, forcing the animal tamer to stand on his toes easily as he whispered harshly in his face. “I’ll let you decide then! Who’s more terrifying? A Fed or the master? You’ve already messed up once and I won’t cover for you again.” He shoved him backwards then and brushed off his own clothes as if they had been harmed in the scuffle, though it was clearly one-sided. “I’ll let you tell him – he won’t be getting what he wants. You were too afraid of a mere  _man.”_

I could see even from here that the animal tamer paled once he’d been given a chance to think. “You-you’re right,” he stuttered, and swallowed deeply. “I’ll… I’ll do it.”

“That’s a good boy,” said the ringleader with a smile that was more of a grimace, and he patted the other quite harshly on the cheek. “Now go make sure Valerie is ready. She was nearly late for her cue yesterday.”

“Yes, Sir,” he answered before shuffling away.

I peeked around the corner after a moment to make sure they were really gone, and when the coast was clear I slunk back in the direction I came, deciding to take another route.

But when I rounded the corner the ringleader appeared before me out of nowhere, or rather, I bumped into him, falling flat to the ground on my ass.

As he stared down at me in the darkness, his silver eyes flashing at me predatorily, I could tell he recognized me easily. Again, I was at a complete loss for words when I looked back up at him, but it turned out that it didn’t matter.

He offered his hand down to me and I accepted it warily.

“It’s easy to get lost in the dark,” he said, pulling me far too easily to my feet. I had tried to get up myself so the effort sent me falling forward into his chest, where he caught me by my shoulder.

I noticed with a heated flurry that the top of my head fit easily under his chin, and for a moment I stood petrified until my better senses reacted and I pushed away from him. His hand stayed rested on my shoulder then slid down my arm to gently wrap around my hand as he turned me around.

“I wouldn’t want you to lose your way,” he said lightly, leading me expertly in the dark, weaving and swerving around things and equipment I couldn’t hope to see.

We crossed the invisible line of the vendor’s stands and he dropped my hand at the entrance of the big top – the crowd inside was roaring with applause and the music seemed to be reaching a crescendo.

“I believe we are reaching my cue,” he said simply, but his eyes seemed to be scanning me from head to toe. “The audience can’t wait forever, and I won’t always be able to bring you back safely. So, please, do me a favor and don’t get lost again.”

He smiled and all I could do was nod back at him dumbly.

“Enjoy the rest of the show.” He retreated back the way we’d come from and slipped into the shadows.

When I finally returned inside he was already back under the spotlight, introducing a tightrope walker who defied death by crossing a single line without the safety of nets below her. I let myself fall back into that same stupefying magic of the show and let the music entrance me into a dreamlike dullness of mind.

I would be lying if I said I thought hard about my case at that moment, because all I could think of was the death defying acts before me and the sound of the music drifting through the air. I knew what I should have been thinking about – the strange conversation I had just heard that may very well have been just what I’d been looking for – but I just couldn’t. Rather, I  _wouldn’t._ I didn’t want to, but I knew I  _had to._

It was like at that moment that something was swaying me, clouding my mind and stealing my very purpose. I fought tooth and nail to stay conscious, to stay alert and watching, but no matter what I did my eyes endlessly drifted back to the center ring, though time and again I found myself devoid of all thought.

Then suddenly, the man named Chanyeol took the stage again, introducing the next act but looking around the ring with purpose until finally he caught my eye. And I couldn’t believe he had found me amongst the dark mass of the crowd, but his eyes looked directly into mine, and I saw their silvery shimmer flash in the light. Then all at once everything was clear to me again.

I found myself feeling as if I had been suddenly woken up from a dream of falling, like a chair was kicked out from under me. With a rush my mind returned fully present to the ring and I could see everything truly unfold around me.

Chanyeol was no longer looking at me, but somehow it was as if he had done something to free me. I could see clearly that the people around me were just as unconscious as ever, clapping happily and mechanically to the show, and I was the only one who looked around with discontent.

Until the show ended I watched the audience like this, suddenly uninterested in the performance and entirely captivated in the way everyone seemed so focused. But as soon as the music ended they all seemed to recover at once and began moving about as normal.

I left as well among the throng, my hand to my head contemplating everything I’d witnessed tonight. I had a lot to think about and not the headspace at the moment to process it.

Just as I was wondering what to do next when the circus moved on – presumably tomorrow – I felt a tug on the end of my sleeve. When I turned around there was a young boy behind me with a piece of paper in his hand, wearing dirty trousers with rips in the knees.

“You’ve dropped this, Sir,” he said.

I knew immediately that I hadn’t, but before I could say it wasn’t mine he had run back through the crowd, disappearing behind the vendors’ stands.

I continued to walk back to my car but stopped dead in my tracks as I examined the paper. It was a note, hurriedly torn from a book and containing only a single hand-written word: Louisville.

I turned back around, searching the crowd for any sign of  _anything_ but nothing odd was to be found. Someone had passed me this note with purpose, in secret, and I knew what it meant.

But did I have the guts to follow it up?

 

The next morning I made my decision.

I was following up with the local Sherriff’s Office in Columbus, letting them know that I was leaving town soon, when someone called out to me.

“Agent! Agent Byun!” called a young man with light hair, jogging up to me briskly.

“Yes?” I asked with surprise.

“You’d asked us to tell you if anyone had gone missing recently, and no one had but-“

I interrupted quickly, “Has something changed?”

“Yes,” he said, gulping, clearly intimidated by my enthusiasm. “We hadn’t received anything until last night, but around midnight a woman came in and claimed her son hadn’t been home in two days. And just this morning we’ve had two other sets of parents and some friends claim that their children went missing last night and haven’t returned.”

“Did you file their claims? Show them to me,” I demanded urgently.

“Of course.”

My heart pounded wildly as I flipped through the papers, and just as I had suspected, all of the missing persons were in their late teens or early twenties.

I handed the papers back to the man. “Look, can you do me a favor? Can you go to City Hall and find out if there’s been any record of a Cirque de Minuit Noir renting land around town? I’ll be over at the Western Inn off Broad Street – you can call me there at room 102.”

He nodded and I spun on my heel. I could find the record myself but without my badge I’d be unable to expedite the process – it would be faster for the kid to do it. In the meantime I returned to my motel, writing down everything I could remember from the night before, then everything about the case from New York.

When I finished there wasn’t much new revelation, only that all of the missing were young, and the group was almost divided evenly between boys and girls. My phone rang on the nightstand and I leapt toward it in an instant, and when I answered I received just the response I had been expecting – there was no record of a circus ever being in town.

I shoved everything I had collected into my briefcase and threw my trunk into the back of my car, and before I knew it I was speeding down the highway towards Kentucky, with Louisville in my sights.

It took only three hours, but with everything on my mind it felt like I’d been trapped in my car for an eternity. However, that didn’t stop me from driving around town for an hour, staking out the roads, but more importantly the fields and clearings, searching for a place that could hold a congregation of that size.

Finally, I made my decision, the perfect location for the circus to set up on the edge of town, and from there all I had to do was choose the closest motel.

Choose and wait.

 

 

 

\- PART THREE –

It wasn’t easy to wait around all week, and I reckon that I became more acquainted with Louisville than I had initially intended. But as Friday grew nearer I felt the days growing longer with my increasing impatience, and I did anything I could to keep my mind off of the impending events.

Thursday night I ended up drinking myself into a stupor that ended with me passed out among my papers at the small desk inside my motel, but when I woke up on Friday I was neither hungover nor tired. I was alive with energy as soon as the alarm on my bedside table went off and I rushed over with amazing eagerness to quiet it.

I straightened myself out for the day, all the while feeling butterflies rumbling around in my stomach and creating a nervous pit in my chest.

To get to the field I simply needed to walk down the street and turn the corner, but I saw it even before then – the black top of the tent and its stars peeking out from behind the buildings. When I finally turned the corner my heart leapt. It was all there, vendors’ rows and dark tents and all, set up in its darkly mysterious glory and appearing like a ghost from nowhere in the night.

I walked into the field in a daze, brushing the tips of the dried yellow grass with the tops of my fingers. I would have almost thought I might still be dreaming had I not walked directly into an old man, a jarring bump that almost knocked him over completely.

“Woah!” I yelled as I reached out to grab him. “I’m sorry, are you okay?”

Luckily, between the two of us he was able to steady himself, and he laughed as he brushed himself off. “I’m just all right,” he said. “What about you? I mean, you really picked the right spot to walk in this empty field – right into me!” he joked merrily.

I laughed and apologized again. “I was just so amazed, you know, with the tent.”

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” he agreed, and I nodded. “It looks complicated but it takes only about three hours to set up, you know, and only a quarter of the time to take it down.”

“Oh really?” I pondered, looking at him closer. He wore work trousers and an old flannel shirt rolled up past his elbows. His hands were dirty from labor and his skin was spotted from the sun. “You build it?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“I do,” he affirmed. “The name’s Wallace, Wallace Gillman, and I’m in charge of all the set up here at L’ Cirque.”

“Baekhyun,” I replied, shaking his hand, “So you’re in charge? Then you must know who I can talk to to get a job around here.”

Wallace stared back at me in surprise, his wrinkles digging deep into his skin. “Here? At the Cirque?”

“That’s right.”

“Son, I mean the opposite of offense, but what is someone like you doing wanting to work in a circus?”

“My parents were acrobats,” I lied quickly. “I left the circus life when I was pretty young to go to school but I was recently fired. I’ve been looking for a new direction, but the thought of something familiar really comforted me.”

“Acrobats, huh? If you want to perform you’ll have to talk with Mr. Park. He’s the one who manages all the performers.”

“No, I’m not interested in performing, just set up.”

“Oh!” he said happily. “Well we’re always in need of strapping young men. We have lots of fellas come and go since we’re always on the road, but because of that you’d need to pick things up pretty fast.”

“I’m a quick learner,” I assured him.

“Well, why don’t I give you a tour around and maybe introduce you to some of the other boys? We pick up wanderers like ourselves all the time. We can see how you do.”

“That would be great.”

I had decided days ago that this would be my goal - learn as much as I could from the inside. How did the circus operate? How did it move around? Who was in charge? Who was involved and why? Where were all the missing kids? What was being done with them?

And there was only so much I could learn and access as an outsider, but hopefully by sticking around with a valid reason I could start to see more of the system, the inner workings of the Cirque.

Wallace took me around the edges of the grounds first, pointing out to me where the performers’ tents were, but leading me through the tents of the regular staff. “We don’t really mix much,” he said, “us and the performers, I mean.”

“Why’s that?” I asked innocently.

“Well, I can’t say that there’s much reason for it, but they’re a tightly knit group. Most of them have been with each other for years and years – they come from France, you know.” I nodded. “So they speak a lot amongst themselves and don’t put a lot of stock in getting to know us since most of us just pass through – there’s a lot of trust there, between them and Mr. Park.”

My ears perked to attention. “You mentioned a Mr. Park before… is he the leader here?”

“Mr. Park?” he asked, seeming surprised. “No. Well, not  _really._ If you’ve seen the show before you might know him as Chanyeol,” my heart skipped a beat,” – as the ringleader – but he’s not technically in charge. Mr. Park is the only one that I know of who talks to the master, and because he’s our ringleader everyone follows him and trusts him pretty implicitly. He knows the Cirque better than anyone… It’s kind of amazing really.”

I nodded, “And what kind of person is the master?”

Here, Wallace seemed a bit stumped about how to answer. “He’s a very mysterious person,” he finally said. “No one of us had ever seen him, not even me and I’ve been here the longest. So, you can imagine there are rumors that he doesn’t really exist, but I know that’s not true.”

“How do you know?”

“The way Mr. Park talks about him sometimes when we discuss where the show will head next. It’s almost like… No, I shouldn’t be saying this.”

“It’s all right,” I said in my most charming voice. “I won’t tell.”

“Well,” said Wallace gruffly, “It’s almost like he’s afraid of him, and mind you, Mr. Park isn’t an un-scary man either.”

“Then why do you think he stays around if Chan- Mr. Park actually runs the show?”

“Well, simply put, he’s our benefactor. I don’t know exactly what he does, but according to Mr. Park without him the Cirque wouldn’t exist.”

“I see.”

After that our conversation was much lighter, and Wallace continued to introduce me to anyone who wasn’t rushing around with things to do. The regular staff was actually quite the small crew, but Wallace assured me that they were able to finish set up no problem every time.

When he had finished his little tour he told me there were still things he needed to do to help set up for the show that evening, and told me I should come back during show time – he would show me how things ran backstage during the performance. I promised him I would be back and returned to my motel until later in the evening.

I didn’t bother trying to think deeply about what I’d heard today, knowing I’d run my head round in circles trying to think too hard. So, I returned to the show that night with nothing but the intention of watching the work.

Wallace met me up front and took me past the ticket booth with special permission, and finally I was able to see the backside of the ring. It was much messier in the back than the audience would ever know, and people ran back and forth constantly making last minute costume adjustments and hurrying to set up the stage for certain acts.

As the night went on Wallace took the time to explain to me the comings and goings of stage management, all the while instructing his staff on what to do. It was hard for me to concentrate on his words however when I could hear the magical melody of  _his_ voice drifting over the speakers every so often, but I did notice that no one back here seemed to be effected by the performances like the audience had been.

After an hour I finally saw him, Chanyeol, as he passed to the back to exchange one of his gloves that had been ripped. He passed by me, glancing over me and Wallace with such a stoic and unaffected face that it had to be faux disinterest. He couldn’t have  _not_  recognized me after our encounters.

I continued to stare after him in wonderment, taking in every inch of his lengthy body. The suit he was wearing tonight was the same black as the circus tent and was covered in small silver sequined stars from top hat to toe, and when he had finally adorned himself a fresh pair of white gloves he looked up at me directly, locking eyes with me intensely – he stared at me so long I was sure someone would have noticed our heated exchange.

I was again taken aback by the milky color of his eyes, but I couldn’t look away until something broke my vision. In the corner of my eye I noticed a child with patchwork trousers running around – I recognized him immediately. I waved him over with my hand and he came at a run.

“Do you remember me?” I asked.

“Yes, Sir,” he replied shyly.

“Do you remember who gave you that note you gave me?”

“Yes, Sir. Mr. Park was the one who told me you’d dropped it, and he told me to give it back to you quickly.”

“Oh, thank you,” I said. When I looked back up my mouth hung open dumbly, but Chanyeol was no longer there. Instead I heard his voice sound over the speakers again, and I was left to stupidly try to figure out what that meant.

Wasn’t he the most suspicious of all?

Mr. Park – Chanyeol – was in charge of everything, everyone, so if anything were going on he would know. Besides that, I had heard that conversation between him and the animal tamer last week, a discussion so suspicious it was almost incriminating by itself. And he had  _known_ that I’d heard him. He had caught me sneaking around twice already, so he had known I was up to something at the very least.

Then why send me that note? Why bring me here when all he could hope to do was bring me closer to the truth? Was there something he wanted me to know – something he wanted me to see? Was it something he couldn’t say?

My train of thought was interrupted when Wallace tapped me on the shoulder. It appeared the performance was over and I had zoned out through the entire last half, but he hadn’t seemed to notice that. Instead, he thanked me for coming by and asked me what I’d thought.

“It’s great,” I said. “It’s really great. If you’ll have me I’d like to give it a shot.”

“Excellent!” he answered with such enthusiasm and brightness that I felt a bit ashamed of my intentions. “Come around again tomorrow night, after the show. You can get started helping us deconstruct the big top right away, and then we’ll be on the road in the early morning – that is if you really are up for it.”

“I am,” I swore. “Where will we be heading?”

Wallace shrugged. “I’m not sure. Mr. Park will direct us when the time comes.”

I chuckled. “Even you seem to trust Mr. Park pretty implicitly.”

“I guess you’re right. He’s been a great leader to us. I’d do anything he asked.”

I simply nodded and bid him goodnight.

When I returned my motel I had some business to take care of, namely deciding what I should bring with me. I packed my essential clothing and care items into my smallest trunk, and then I carefully stowed the papers containing evidence into a secret compartment on the inside. If anyone were to open it unwittingly all they would see was clothing, but I needed the papers close to me in case I needed to make a report.

The next morning I called the FBI building in New York to check on my status, but the secretary there said Director Baugh couldn’t be reached at the moment. However, I declined to leave a message and instead told them that if they needed to contact me I would be unavailable indefinitely and they could leave any messages pertaining my work status with Kyungsoo Do at the Cincinnati Field Office. Before the woman was able to protest I hung up quickly. The last thing I did was impound my own vehicle at the Louisville County Sheriff’s Office, ensuring that it would be safe while I was gone and that I’d be back to pick it up soon, or I’d send someone for it – probably Kyungsoo.

That night, I checked out of the motel very late, bag in hand, and met Wallace and his younger, lively son, Jacob, behind the vendor’s stands. We dropped my bag near one of the tents the staff shared and set to work.

Once the crowd had completely cleared out around 11PM they brought the large floodlights outside and illuminated the grounds. Around thirty of us set to work dismantling the stadium seating inside the big top, all the while I shadowed Jacob and he directed me with small tasks.

“You’ll pick everything up in no time,” he assured me, and it was true. Half of us finished taking apart the seating while the rest of us loaded the parts onto trucks.

We worked until very early in the morning, intensely laboring to clear the field before dawn. Last, the big top fell down, then finally, everything was gone.

I loaded myself into one of the big trucks with Wallace and his son in between us in the cab and we headed on down the road.

“What about the performers?” I asked, “I didn’t see anyone helping them.”

“The performers take care of themselves,” answered Jacob. “All we do is set up the tents and load the animals. Somehow they manage everything else.”

Before the sun even began to rise we were on the highway heading south. “So, where are we heading?” I finally asked after about an hour. I yawned sleepily, exhausted and stiff from labor.

“Nashville,” answered Wallace. “But not quite yet. We’ll camp out for about a week out in the country and then come into town on Friday morning.”

I nodded in understanding, and the rest of the drive was quiet except for Jacob’s soft snoring.

We arrived in the middle of nowhere at around 9 o’clock in a great dirt field, surrounded by dried wheat on every side and nothing but a poor country road to lead us there. We worked through our tiredness - and for me, my soreness - to set up the basic tents we would need to stay the week.

I didn’t go near the animals and no one expected me to, so I never saw how they were taken care of, only that they were left far from our plot of land for safety.

When we were about finished, mats were rolled out to cover the floors of our tents and small mattresses and cots were set up in a communal style. The finished result was a slightly less unanimous blob of black tents scattering the field, but in essence it was still the same as performance nights – without the big top. There still lay a great chasm between the performers’ tents and the rest of the crew, and even during the day there was very minimal interaction from both sides.

Most of the crew slept during the day. I, myself, was unable to even though I was very tired because I was unused to the schedule. But I was able to catch a quick nap later in the afternoon. In the meantime, I ate and talked with the other crew members, getting to know them and subtly figuring out what they knew.

My initial impression was of wanderers. Most of the crew were men and children with nowhere else to go, searching for their places in life with the lots they’d been given. So they were a far cry from the performers, and I could see that there was an invisible line each one of them dared not cross.

I laid low, figuring out the flow of the interactions between everyone and really memorizing the layout of the temporary camp.

I waited three days before I made my move – that’s how long it took me to memorize everyone’s sleeping pattern. When I did, I was able to slip out quietly past Wallace, who slept near the entrance, and creep outside the tents at night.

Tonight, many of the performers were on the far side of the mass of dark tents, drinking the night away at a bonfire. It was the perfect opportunity to search their empty tents for anything suspicious. I was able to look through two before anything happened.

Both were relatively spacious and well decorated for a makeshift camp, each lined with rugs on the floor and filled with trunks of clothing and costumes. I couldn’t be sure whose tent belonged to who, but I assumed both of them were women by the contents of their closets. I rummaged around in drawers and meticulously placed everything back where I’d found it.

Suddenly, I received inspiration. If I had been kidnapping people and keeping them around a circus, where would I keep them assuming all of the performers were somehow involved? The tent at the center of their ring of tents.

It would be the safest place to hide something – unknown to outsiders and inaccessible to anyone not in the inner circle.

I knew it might be unsafe, but who knew when I would have another opportunity like this with everyone gone? So, I stayed close to the ground and weaved quietly in between the dark tents, hiding in the shadows and turning carefully around corners. Finally, the center tent was within my sight, and only a few lay in between. I approached it carefully but stopped in my tracks when I heard something odd – a sound like water but thicker moving like a pulse through my ears. It was faint but it was there. Then-

“You shouldn’t be here!” came that low voice I had come to know so well - had unconsciously memorized.

Chanyeol emerged from nowhere and looked at me frantically, dressed in pants and shirt he had obviously been sleeping in. I was still stopped frozen in my tracks, my mind a mess trying to figure out how to explain myself. He strode over to me with giant strides of his long legs and grabbed me by the arm, his icy touch a shock to my skin.

“It’s dangerous!” he said again, his grey eyes pouring out strange emotion that seemed a mixture of fear and anger and worry. He was looming over me when suddenly he looked up as if he’d heard a noise. Then I saw fear overtake him completely. “Come with me!” he whispered harshly and pulled me into the tent closest to us, encircling me protectively.

My hands were pinned against his chest in front of me, and he tightened his arms around me like a constrictor. Glancing upward I could see he was staring at the crack in the tent outside, but I couldn’t figure out why.

“I just-“ I began, but stumbled over my words.

“Shh!” he urged me, pulling me even closer until my head was resting against his chest under his chin. We stood there silently for what seemed like a long time, but I’m sure was only a few seconds.

In all that time I felt like I couldn’t take even a single breath, and my face flushed what I’m sure was a horrible pink. I didn’t know what was happening but I couldn’t deny that I liked where I was - the feeling of being held so tightly was both an attraction and a comfort I hadn’t felt in a long time.

All was silence around us.

Then I heard it – the sound of shuffling feet, like two lead pipes being dragged through the grass outside. I heard the sound of labored breathing, a disgusting sound especially when paired with the strange muttered whispers that trailed along with it. The voice sounded foreign but not French – a language I’d never heard before.

I turned my head as best as I could to look in the same direction Chanyeol was staring, and I saw it for just a moment, in the brief opening of the tent – there was a heavily cloaked figure whose face I couldn’t see, dragging his enormous body past our tent.

After a few seconds of bated breath the sounds quieted, the distance between us finally consuming them.

“Who… No,  _what_ was that?” I asked incredulously when I finally dared whisper, and I could feel Chanyeol loosen his strong grip around my back.

He continued to stare at the entrance as he answered. “The Master,” he said eerily, “He’s drawn out by the fire.”

“The what?”

Finally he looked down at me, as if suddenly aware he was still holding me close and that he wasn’t alone. His silvery eyes never left mine, and I had to force myself to look away, still very much aware of my hands splayed over his chest.

“You can let me go now,” I muttered pathetically, attempting to worm my way from his hold. “I promise I won’t wander around anymore – honest to god.”

He continued to stare at me quietly, as if unsure I was really there. Then he released me. Since he kept silent I took that as my cue to leave and turned for the opening.

“I know what you are,” he said suddenly, and I stopped in my tracks.

“What?” I asked, a mixture of shock and disbelief barely disguised as confusion.

“I said,” he repeated, lower in almost a whisper. “I know what you are. I saw you… with your ‘friend’, when we were still in Columbus.”

My mind immediately thought back to Kyungsoo, his badge and his gun displayed unashamed on his waist. “Look, I’m not- I’m not what you think I am.”

“No?” he asked, his eyes sparkling strangely as he took a step toward me, trapping me within his pull once again. “Me neither.”

Before I could process what he meant his free hand was on my chin and his lips were slotted against mine softly. I struggled for one moment only from fear of the unknown, but as soon as I realized what was happening I let it – encouraged it. He swallowed me whole in that moment, unexpectedly and unabashedly as we hurried to finish a kiss I wasn’t even sure how we started.

My hands were once again on his chest, moving from his collar bones to his neck and wrapping around, leaning my weight against the curve of his body. He was soft and gentle, and yet entirely urgent in the way his lips moved against mine. I gasped and pulled away for air, entirely out of breath, and regretted it instantly – because then it was over.

“You should go,” he said suddenly.

“What?” I breathed, stars still spinning in my eyes.

“You  _must_ go,” he corrected. “They’ll all be returning soon.”

He led me back in strange silence to the entrance of my tent, where he said one last thing to me before dropping my hand.

“Baekhyun,” he whispered, looking at me directly with his large silvered eyes – I was shocked that he had known my name. “You mustn’t wander in the performers’ tents ever again. It’s dangerous.”

Somehow, I immediately snapped out of the daze the kiss had put me in. “If you know what I am then you know I can’t do that.”

“I know,” he said surprisingly. “But I am begging you. Don’t look any further. Better yet, you should leave this place, tonight if you can.”

“But why?” My eyebrows narrowed harshly with confusion – why should he act like he was worried about me? Was this an elaborate ruse meant to drive me away?

“Something is happening here,” he said. “Something bad. And it’s about to get much worse. You… you are innocent, and I’ve made a mistake. This isn’t something you should be involved in. I shouldn’t have involved you.”

“Involved me? If innocent people are going to be hurt then it’s exactly what I should be involved in.” I stared him dead in the eye and I could see he was shaken by my conviction.

“This isn’t something a Federal Agent- No, not something a human can deal with. Incredible,” he said, holding his hand to his head as if he’d just realized something grave. “I realize only now that it can’t be stopped by regular means. I was blind.”

“What do you mean?” I begged him urgently to tell me.

“I’ve already said too much,” he turned away quickly but I grabbed him by the back of the shirt.

“Chanyeol!”

He glanced back over his shoulder. “We all have a part we must play – even me… But you aren’t a part of this, not yet anyway. Heed my warning. Leave now before you’re dragged down any further.”

He spun on his heel and his shirt slipped from my grasp, and I was left alone in the dark shadow of the tent.

I returned to my bed that night with more questions than answers, and I spent the long hours in the dark tossing and turning hoping for solution until I finally passed out around dawn.

The next afternoon I spent amongst the other crew, drinking and playing card games to while away the time. However, something very unexpected happened.

I heard perturbed muttering before I really noticed anything was going on, but when I looked up quickly during the game I could see his tall body weaving his way through our tents long before he arrived.

I could tell that seeing Chanyeol here during the day – or at all – was something unusual by the way everyone reacted around me with confusion and interest. But, continuing in the ruse of an average person with nothing to suspect I acted accordingly, though somehow I knew what he was here for.

As I predicted he stopped at the table where I was playing with Wallace, Jacob and a few others, and Wallace tipped his hat to him, clearly surprised.

“Mr. Park! Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” replied Chanyeol, shaking his head. “I just wanted to see how you were all getting by. May I watch?”

“Certainly!” cried Wallace with great excitement, and he made Jacob slide into the seat next to me, clearing the spot across from me for Mr. Park.

“What are we playing?” he asked, looking at me directly.

I finished shuffling the deck and began dealing “Texas Hold ‘Em, no special rules.”

“Mr. Park,” Wallace said suddenly. “Have you met Baekhyun? We picked him up in Louisville – he thinks he’ll stay around for a while.”

“I don’t believe I have,” Chanyeol responded with a coy smile that only I understood. “I apologize. I don’t learn the names of much of the staging staff since they so often come and go.”

“Please remember mine then,” I said dryly, “because I plan on staying for a while.”

He looked taken aback for only a moment before he composed himself with a smile. “I will then.”

I stayed quiet for much the rest of the game, talking when I needed to and answering questions simply here or there, but mostly I gaveup and watched. I watched Chanyeol for any sign, any indication of what he was doing here. And though I suspected he was here to pressure me into leaving or possibly oust me, he made no such pass.

He talked merrily with the crew, and I could see from the stars in their eyes that they all held him on a pedestal, straining to get their chance to speak with him and listening intently when he opened his mouth.

Eventually, I broke off from the group before the evening got dark. It was near the beginning of July so the weather was hot but the well we had been using for bathing ran quite cold, so I had to make sure I used it in the heat of the day when it was at its peak temperature.

The baths were public for all but the few women in the troupe, so I headed toward them on the edge of camp. Suddenly I felt a chill go down my spine as if I were being watched. When I turned around only Chanyeol was behind me, a few paces back with his hands in his pockets.

I stopped and took a step back toward him. “What are you doing?”

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t getting lost,” he said without a tinge of embarrassment.

I raised an eyebrow with serious disbelief. “This isn’t my first shower.”

“Don’t wander,” he replied simply, then he turned and left, presumably back to the performers’ side of the camp.

The next days passed as thus, Chanyeol came and went but he was seen frequently on our side of the tent line. We didn’t have much personal contact but I did have the feeling that he was watching me, always appearing in my line of vision no matter where I went. Although he seemed to avoid being left alone with me.

However, Thursday night I didn’t have time to even wonder what he was up to, because the camp was extremely busy tearing down tents and loading our cargo into our trucks. Before the sun rose we were on the short road to Nashville and stopping in a new field just on the edge of town. Then for the next few hours we constructed the big top. By the time we were finished I was exhausted, but we still had much to do in the way of preparation. Wallace had me follow Jacob around as he prepared the grounds for the show that night.

“How do you spread the word?” I asked once. “How do people know that the circus is showing when we’re only in town for two nights?”

Jacob shrugged. “Mr. Park takes care of all that so I’m not sure. I did hear something about flyers once though.”

I privately wondered how flyers could be adequate to garner audience enough to fill the stands two nights in a row without prior notice, but as it was unimportant I pushed the thoughts from my mind.

I was able to rest a bit during the afternoon, but when evening rolled around Jacob couldn’t afford to have me follow him around and instead appointed me simple tasks like assisting the vendors or carrying stage props to certain sides of the ring when the show began. The roar and applause of the audience was distracting, but I was able to notice something odd even among the commotion.

Tonight, the animal tamer seemed to be wandering around the backstage area quite often, even though his cue wasn’t until the second act. I had learned that his name was Kai, and though he was a bit older than me he looked very much young, and his skin glowed healthily with sun.

I recognized him as the man I had heard conversing with Chanyeol in secret that night, the one who had been afraid of something. So, I was already wary that he seemed to be hanging around near me. But it wasn’t until I saw him up close that I remembered Elizabeth – the victim who had escaped.

He stood closer to me than I’d ever been to any of the other performers, other than Chanyeol, and when our eyes met his caught the light from the side stage. They flashed silver, like an animal’s in the night - like Chanyeol’s - and I was so startled I nearly cried out. Thinking back to what Elizabeth had told me, Kai was most likely her attacker, but I had two things left to confirm.

The first was that he was watching me.

I edged near the exit of the backstage area, and when I was sure he was watching I slipped outside into the dark and walked down the rows of tents quickly. When I was sure we were alone I ducked behind one lowly and waited for him. I peeked back around the corner and saw his figure, frantically looking every which way for what direction I’d gone, and when he got closer I jumped out at him and caught him off guard.

“Why are you following me?” I accused aggressively. “What do you want?”

He nearly stumbled backward and barely managed to maintain his footing. “I’m just doing what Chanyeol told me to!” he said defensively.

“Which was?” I demanded.

“Follow you. Make sure you didn’t wander around.” He seemed like he had been caught by surprise by my tone and replied meekly. Somehow he seemed more like a child than expected, and I couldn’t imagine him trying to kidnap anyone.

Yet, I made my second confirmation. He had scratches that were turning into scars running along the side of his neck, just where Elizabeth had said she’d fought back.

“Look,” he said, “I don’t even know why Chanyeol wants me to follow you. He just told me to keep an eye on you and that’s it… Who are you?”

“I’m nobody,” I told him, “this is all just a stupid game he’s playing.”

“A game?” he questioned suspiciously.

“Look, you know him better than I do,” I said, thinking quickly. For some reason Chanyeol hadn’t told Kai about why I was here, though he clearly knew. Yet Kai was definitely involved in whatever was happening here. I could only assume Chanyeol didn’t want to expose me… at least not yet. “Does Chanyeol get jealous often?”

“Jealous?”

“Does he expect me to cheat on him while he’s busy?” I asked unabashedly.

Even in the darkness I could see color spread over Kai’s face as he realized what I meant, what I’d implied. I could see him squirm and fidget and so I pushed him on.

“If he thinks I have time to fuck another-“

“I didn’t mean-!” he cut me off quickly like I expected, practically shouting. “I didn’t mean to get involved in his affairs! I didn’t know!”

I pushed my finger into his chest angrily. “You tell him that I don’t want to waste my time playing these games, and if he really feels like that then he needs to come to me directly, okay!?”

“Yes!” he said, backing away from me before turning on his heel and shuffling in a hurry back to the big top.

I followed him back at a slower pace, all the while pleased at how I’d handled the situation yet simultaneously dreading the result. Then, in the back of my mind I remembered the more important problem at hand. Kai was most certainly involved in the conspiracy going on, but he had also been directed to participate, almost forced by threat – I could see that with my own eyes. Chanyeol had kept my identity as an investigator secret for some reason and let me stay here, and yet he was clearly protecting the secret from getting out by disallowing me to investigate, by having me followed. I didn’t understand, but I knew one thing for certain.

The Master, whoever or whatever he was, was the orchestrator behind everything going on here. Judging from what Chanyeol had accidentally admitted he was the one pulling the strings of everyone involved. The only questions now were why they were all under his thumb, what did he need all these people for, and where did they go?

When I returned backstage I sat in the corner to observe some of the performers and noticed when I was able to look a little closer that some of them seemed to have milky eyes - the same condition as Chanyeol but not to the same extent. I knew the shimmer in their eyes had something to do with the tale I was unraveling, but I didn’t know what yet. However, I realized it was something mysterious and beyond my comprehension, but I didn’t want to know what that may be.

I heard Chanyeol’s voice end and open a new act before he crossed over to this side of backstage, resting for a moment before he returned. But before he sat down in the wings I saw that he was approached by a nervous – blushing – looking Kai. I could see them talking, then I saw Kai gesture towards me and Chanyeol follow his eyes.

There was confusion in his expression at first, but by the time Kai had finished talking he covered it up quickly and nodded, ushering the boy away. He continued to stare at me and I back at him challengingly. I could feel irresistible tension throttling my system, and I began to worry that his attraction toward me, and mine toward him, might be a problem I wasn’t counting on.

I forced myself to look away, folding my arms tightly across my chest and excusing myself to track down Jacob. I kept myself busy for the rest of the show, and my only contact with Chanyeol was through his voice over the speaker.

However, when the show was over the performers headed back to their individual tents to clean up and rest for the night, and the rest of the crew was tasked with clearing the grounds of people and trash until about midnight.

I knew I should be sleepy despite the long day but I was wide awake, and when Jacob yawned and I saw his attention fade I slipped away easily enough.

I wove through the dark mass of tents like it was second nature for me to be slinking around, and I approached the center tents easily. It was as I was approaching that one of the flaps of the tents opened and Chanyeol stood, easily spying me in the darkness. Before he could make a move, to his surprise I walked straight toward him and passed him inside.

He closed the flap quickly and turned to me. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you. I want to figure out what kind of game you’re playing here.”

He had the gall to act confused as he closed his bare arms over his chest. “I’m not playing any sort of game with you, despite what you told Kai.”

I laughed in his face. “Are you kidding? You’re watching me, yet avoiding me. You’re sending your minions to follow me when you can’t watch me yourself. You know what I am and why I’m here but you haven’t done anything about it besides try to confuse me.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he lied quickly, his eyes scanning my angry face.

“Oh, sure you don’t. Ignoring the fact that I don’t know what you do with them, I know that you kidnap people! There are young  _kids_ missing for some convoluted scheme your ‘ _Master’_ is making you commit, and yet you have the  _audacity_ to act like you might be trying to stop it – from trying to get me involved?”

“Stop it,” he urged me. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Since you guys are such bad people why not just have me killed? Isn’t that what you’re doing to those kids, huh!? I haven’t seen them around anywhere and you know I’ve looked.” I tiptoed until I was up in his face, forcing him to look away. “You know that I know!” I practically yelled. “So why pretend like you can save me by chasing me away from here? I know your crime – I’m a witness. Wouldn’t it be better to just kill me?!”

“Stop saying that!” he shouted unexpectedly. “I don’t want to kill-!” his voice softened. “I don’t want to kill  _anyone._ I haven’t killed anyone _._ ”

“Then tell me the truth,” I said. “If you really haven’t then tell me everything. What is going on here? How many of you are involved?”

“I can’t.” He shook his head back and forth, clamping his hands over his ears like a child.

“Where are all the kids? Why is this happening? What does your Master have over you? Tell me!”

“I can’t!”

“Chanyeol!” I shouted louder than necessary.

“Shh! Someone will hear!”

“Fine! Then let them hear! You protected my identity for a reason! I know you want – no –  _need_ my help for something. Just tell me-“

“Lives are at stake here!” he lowered his voice harshly. “Innocent lives of people I care about.”

“What about the lives of the kids?”

Chanyeol was breathing hard. “I know. I know,” he groaned. “But I also don’t know what to do.”

“Let me help.”

“No! I shouldn’t even be telling you any of this. I shouldn’t. He might kill me. He might kill you.”

“Who will? Your master?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“It matters to me!” I nearly shouted again.

The two of us stood there huffing, equally worked up but neither of us willing to give in. I was at a loss. If I pushed any harder Chanyeol may well fold and crumble to my demands, but he could also close himself off and I could lose the only possible ally I had.

“You’re really something,” he said suddenly.

“Huh?” I said, astonished.

“You demand justice with no regard for your own well-being, barging into this den of lions with righteousness on your side. You’re so selfish,” he continued. “I haven’t seen your partner around again, so maybe you’re not even supposed to be here. And yet you demand I make sacrifices for your own peace of mind. It’s just so incredibly self-involved.”

“Like you’re one to talk. You’re letting innocent lives go to ruin for the sake of your friends. How is that not in your own self-interest?” There was something about our banter now that was more dangerous than before. The atmosphere was more relaxed and yet the tension between us remained at maximum.

“At least I know it is. I don’t pretend.”

“There’s nothing noble about knowing the cost and continuing to commit a crime. How do you sleep at night?”

“Should I show you?”

I didn’t answer as he stepped toward me because I could feel all rational thought flying away in an instant. I knew what was coming, and despite all that I knew, all that I suspected of him, I didn’t even try to stop it.

But unlike last time he seemed to question himself, stepping closer until our noses were almost touching and our eyes were half-lidded and unfocused. My arms were still folded across my chest, but I didn’t try to move away when his palm rested against my cheek. He hesitated, maybe waiting for my response. But the bubble of nerves and longing building up inside me couldn’t wait a second longer.

“Oh, for god’s sake,” I said with a sigh, and stood on tiptoe to press my lips to his.

One of his hands cupped my cheek and moved to the back of my head, while the other snaked around my lower back. My hands gripped the sides of his shirt for balance and I pressed into him further, my tongue pushing into his mouth.

The only sounds around us now were from the crickets and cicadas loudly chirping outside and the sounds of the gasping breaths we took in between. In all honesty I can say that once we began I didn’t think straight for the rest of the night. I let the pure animal attraction that had pulled me to him in the first place take reign over my body and willingly ignored everything. I forgot where I was, who I was – everything except what I wanted to do.

And what I wanted to do the most then was give in to my most primal urges for the first time in a long time. I thought I deserved that much at least.

We both knew where we were headed, but without wasting a breath he guided me backward until we fell upon his mattress, his body hovering over mine and his thigh between my legs. It seemed like he intuitively knew just what to do to rile me up, and before I could tell myself what to do my hands were already tangling in his hair and running up and down his back.

We didn’t exchange any words as we shed our clothes, and they were tossed indiscriminately onto the floor in our tousle. He was just as glorious as I had imagined. For only a moment we paused, examining each other in our nakedness from head to toe, and my body burned everywhere his hooded eyes touched my form. But I equally ogled him, my vision lingering on the curves of the muscles in his stomach down through the long legs I had admired since the start.

It was weird, because he looked at me as if he were suddenly asking if everything was okay… and somehow I understood. But I had to guide him through the rest of the night gently. He was tender but wild in his touches, and though there were no feelings between us I felt all his passion pouring out into me and I was suddenly overwhelmed. I had the urge like never before to cry and shout as I came with his length inside of me, as if I knew everything had changed in that instant – as if I knew at the time that there would be no going back.

We lay there in the dawn of the day too tired to speak or move further, but he ran his fingers through my hair with what I imagined as affection. I remember thinking that I wished I could lay there for just a moment longer, just so I wouldn’t have to think.

I can’t say I regret what I’ve done now… but how I wished I laid there just a minute longer…

 

 

 

\- PART FOUR –

The summer passed in a way I could not have expected. After Nashville we continued on through the South, going as far as Tallahassee and making our way back up to the West with no clear route in sight.

Ten weeks on the road was plenty of time to fall in love… and I suppose that’s what I did. Otherwise, I could not have ignored the signs all around me.

We pretended everything was normal between us in the daytime, but in private we continued our affair. And we progressed far beyond love-making, often talking for long hours into the night until we both fell asleep. But Chanyeol learned much more about me than I about him, and I never pushed it any further. I knew that if I did everything would break. The happy bubble we create for ourselves would burst in an instant at the faintest touch of truth.

We never agreed aloud to keep silent about the problem between us – it just came naturally. But for a while it was easy to push everything aside and focus on the bliss of personal pleasure. I even took a temporary leave of absence from work, long after my suspension had been lifted.

I talked with Kyungsoo a few times after driving into town to use the phone. He always asked where I’d been and where I was now but I never responded, simply telling him that everything was fine and that I was okay. When he asked me about the Cirque I kept quiet as well. I knew that if he had even a whiff of what was going on he would rush down to talk sense into me, and I couldn’t bear the thought of that.

However, I knew it wouldn’t last – couldn’t. Maybe the thought was far in the back of my mind at the time, but it always lingered. Finally, as August became October I got my wake up call.

Jacob and I were riding into town on a Friday morning in one of the troupe’s pick-up trucks, picking up some food supplies in bulk from a nearby grocer. We were making idle chat when a car swerved on the road in front of us. Jacob screeched the truck to a halt but our cars collided and spun to a stop.

My head hit the dashboard before I was able to catch myself, but I got away with just a scratch. However Jacob had passed out against the steering wheel, so I jumped out of the passenger’s seat and ran around to the other side. A local who had seen the crash ran inside a nearby store to use the phone and call an ambulance.

Jacob woke up almost immediately, so I moved to the other car. The driver was an old woman, who was okay but shaking from nerves. I helped her out of the car just as the ambulance arrived on the scene.

Each of us was checked out but only Jacob had sustained a concussion, so I took care of him after dropping off the truck at an auto repair shop and going into the police station to file an official report.

It was while I was there that everything changed.

While I was chatting with an officer, I heard a commotion from one of the back rooms.

“Please! There must be something you can do - anything!”

“Ma’am. As I’ve said the best I can do is take your statement for now. We must wait 48 hours before we can file an official report. Young people run away all the time. I suggest you wait at home in case your son comes home. We’re doing everything we can to help.”

A middle aged woman rounded the hallway and burst into tears a moment later, leaving the small department in a mess.

“What was that about?” I asked with suspicion and dread.

The officer sighed. “That’s the second one today – missing persons’ case.”

“Were they both young?”

The officer seemed suspicious. “They were… do you know something?”

I shrugged, “It was just a guess. I used to be in law enforcement.”

We exchanged a few more words merrily, but I could feel a pit sinking in my stomach, growing wider and wider with every new thought.

Jacob and I hitched a ride back out into the boonies to our camp, and I dropped Jacob off with Wallace, telling him what had happened and instructing him not to let Jacob sleep for a while. Then I made an excuse and wandered off, past the invisible line dividing the tents and to the other side. I saw a few performers on the way, but I had since grown unashamed. They all kept their questions to themselves, and I only had one destination in mind.

When I reached Chanyeol’s tent he was sitting at the makeshift desk he’d made out of a trunk and reading a book that looked like medical text. But upon seeing my expression and the cut on my forehead he dropped it and strode over to me in a hurry.

“What happened?” he demanded, tenderly examining the wound with the tips of his fingers.

“I’m fine,” I replied, looking up at him. “There was a car crash. Jacob’s beat up much worse than I am.”

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said with a small smile, gingerly kissing my forehead.

But I brushed him away. “Actually… I’m not.”

“What’s the matter?” he asked, eyebrows knitting together in a look of actual concern.

“Chanyeol…” I started, unsure of how to begin – what to ask. “It’s still happening isn’t it?”

“What is?”

“The kids… Just now at the police station, there was a woman looking for her son. He went missing last night.” His mouth closed into a thin line. “You know something don’t you?”

“Baekhyun, just forget about it. It doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“That’s not quite true though, is it?”

“Baekhyun…”

“No, Chanyeol. Don’t pretend. We need to stop, both of us. We need to stop pretending that everything is okay and that everything is normal. There’s nothing normal about any of this. No matter how much I lo- how much I like you, the truth is always going to be between us. I don’t know what kind of man you really are…”

“After all this time you still don’t know?” he asked.

He pulled me in by the waist and planted his lips on mine, deeply kissing me, so much that I nearly forgot my purpose. But I came to my senses quickly and banged on his chest with my fist until he let me push him away.

“Chanyeol! You can’t just kiss me and expect me to forget everything! This won’t go away if you ignore it long enough. You know I won’t let it go… You know that.”

He suddenly looked washed with sadness so deep that I could feel his hold on me lose strength. “I just want to pretend. I want to pretend that everything it okay – everything is normal. These past few weeks have been some of the happiest of my life… Is it so bad that I want to forget?”

I put my hand against his cheek and he closed his eyes and leaned into it. “No. But pretending won’t make it go away. It will only prolong your pain… You’re smarter than this. I know you are.”

He kept his eyes closed for a long time, so long that it was concerning. But when he finally opened them there was something in their milky blue color that I hadn’t seen before – resolution.

“Tonight,” he said. “Come back tonight – before the show. I’ll tell you everything.”

I left him with a kiss to the cheek, and in Jacob’s place I helped prepare for the show that evening, the pit in my stomach aching with nervousness. I had so many questions that I had been ignoring for weeks, so many things that demanded answers, that the thought of finally hearing them all was dreadful.

By the time evening came I excused myself from preparation and went back to Chanyeol’s tent. I knew there would be a lot to talk about, and an hour surely wasn’t enough time. But it turned out that it didn’t matter, because when I arrived Chanyeol was roaring drunk, almost passed out on his mattress and in a stupor.

I rushed out to find the nearest performer – a tight rope walker named Valerie, who was clearly surprised I was speaking to her first – and explained that Chanyeol would be in no condition to perform come show time. She understood and went to go find someone available to understudy.

Then I returned to the tent.

I helped Chanyeol into a chair and forced him to drink some water. His eyes were glassier than usual when he finally noticed it was me.

“You!” he practically shouted. “You want to know about my heart! My heart…” he banged on his chest with a loose fist.

I soothed him by running my fingers through his hair and leaning his head onto my lap. For about half an hour we sat like this, until with sobering clarity he brought my hand from his hair down to rest on his chest.

“You know, right?” he asked. “Did you know? Or did you already suspect?”

I knew what he was referring to but I shook my head, too terrified of the truth to ask for an answer.

“You feel it right?” he asked again and again as he pressed my palm to his chest. “You saw the scar so you must know… You couldn’t hear it even when you laid on my chest and do you know why?”

I shook my head again.

“Because it’s not there! He took it! He took my heart.”

“Who?”

“The Master.”

The first time we had had sex I had noticed it, the faint lines of a pink x shaped scar running from his collar bones to below his nipples. But I knew it wasn’t something to ask about, because he was right. I had tried on more than one occasion to listen for his heartbeat, and I had known something was amiss. It was just one of the things I had chosen to ignore in favor of my personal happiness.

“How?” I asked simply.

“I have a story to tell you… will you listen? Will you still love me when I’m through?” he begged me with an expression so painful I could feel myself begin to cry.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly.

He swallowed deeply. “It’s okay. I wouldn’t love me either.”

I closed my eyes and exhaled as he began.

“I was born in a small village in France near the border of Spain… in the year 1807. My parents died when I was quite young as civilian casualties in one of the Napoleonic War marches to claim territory. I was on my own for a long time after that.

“I lived in an orphanage until I was thirteen, when I was picked up for work by a local aristocrat who lived just outside of town. He took me on as a stable boy at first, but after a year I was allowed to work inside the house… See, I was the same age as his only son, a handsome boy named Thomas. He had thick wavy black hair and kind green eyes… and I loved him.

“We grew up together. We played together, and we learned together. And as time passed he came to love me too. But I knew we could never be together… not because of... you know. But, Baekhyun…he was dying.

“Thomas had a lung infection that had started when he was twenty, and kept him sickly until twenty-three. He had put off marrying for so long simpy because he loved me, but when he got sick his father stopped pressuring him too, stopped trying at all really. Baekhyun, you must understand. Thomas was all I had – all I had ever known. I couldn’t lose him. So I did what I had to.

“After a year, when things were looking really desperate, I found a book of spells… and inside it told me how I could summon a demon… In exchange for servitude he would grant me one wish…”

I closed my eyes tighter, terrified of what I would hear next.

“And so I summoned him.

“His name was Orthon, and he was one of the fire demons of Hell. He told me that if I gave him my heart he would cure Thomas… and I let him. It was painful… it hurt  _so, so_ much, and I cried when he ripped it out of me. But he took my heart and he put it in a jar, and he told me that my years were now his.

“But he cured Thomas! He made a miraculous recovery and the master of the house was pleased, the servants were pleases, and, Baekhyun, I was so, so happy that I didn’t even care what I had been through. I thought we were going to be together forever…

“But Thomas… Thomas had other plans now that he had a second chance at life. He changed his mind… he didn’t love me anymore – at least that’s what he said. He didn’t want to risk his father’s inheritance to run off and commit sodomy with a stable boy. So he married a wealthy young woman from the next town over, and I couldn’t even tell him what I’d done for him. I was too scared.

“He broke my heart…

“Orthon took control of my heart then, and now that he was a part of the human world he had developed a taste for mortal flesh. So he made me bring him sacrifices every once in a while, and in order to stay alive I did so.

“And I did it and I did it and I did it, too afraid to act against him and too afraid to die… He made other deals over the years, stealing their hearts and granting their wishes for a price. And together we formed a band of misfits, traveling the continent.

“We were afraid, but at least we were together. We formed the Cirque as a means of keeping busy, to give our new extraordinarily long lives some meaning. But Orthon soon took advantage of that. His music pulled the audiences in and sorted out wayward souls. Then he took them from our crowd and he ate them.

“Over time he became somewhat lazy, forcing us instead to do his dirty work. But his hunger became more insatiable than ever. Then when we came to America things got out of control.

“It seemed like every week he was taking souls now, asking for more and more blood to stain our hands. We ruined lives for our own selfish desire to stay alive - I hated myself. I hate myself so much still… because I became unafraid to die, ready to finish everything, but I just couldn’t seem to put an end to it.

“I started looking for a way out… but then it found me. A Federal Agent, you, Baekhyun, chasing after our blood in the water, and I thought that if you knew the truth you could put a stop to it. You could stop us from ever hurting anyone again, and we would die, but at least it would be over.”

I was sobbing by then, tears streaming down my face and my heart aching so painfully I couldn’t help but hiccup. “Then why didn’t you finish it?”

“I wanted to,” he said, barely able to look at me. “I wanted to stop him - kill Orthon and finally die myself – but I couldn’t. Physically, I can’t…at least not yet. Or at least that’s what I’ve been telling myself.”

“What do you mean?”

“He’s not invincible. Orthon can be killed anytime if you know what to do, and over the past few years I’ve done quiet research little by little. So I could have acted whenever I wanted. But after a while I thought, ‘Wouldn’t it be great to stay alive? Wouldn’t it be great if I could meet that person everyday – see him smile and laugh and cry?’ And then it became all too easy to forget.”

I gulped and swallowed my sorrow, already knowing the answer. “Who did you want to meet?”

“You,” he said simply, smiling slowly for the first time since he’d started. “I wanted to stay with you… At first, I thought of you as a tool to use to dismantle the Cirque, but even after one night I knew I couldn’t do that. I didn’t want to use you like that, not when I knew how you could end up at the hands of the Master. So I encouraged you to give up, and I followed you around hoping you would. But you never did, and goddammit, Baekhyun, you so selfishly and stubbornly stayed around even when I tried to drive you away.

“But selfishly… I wished that you wouldn’t go. And when you came looking for me that night after the show I knew that you wanted me too. I knew that eventually the truth would come out, that being close to me you would see my defects and learn about my demons, but I just wanted to pretend everything was okay. I wanted to live the life I should have had with Thomas but never got.”

“Did you use me to replace him?” I asked. “Was I just a stand in for Thomas?”

“Never. In all the years I spent pining after Thomas, I never loved him the way I’ve come to love you.”

I cried into his shoulder, circling my arms around his neck and holding him. I could feel his hands on me shaking and his chest heaving, and it only made me want to cry harder.

“You know we have to finish this,” he said.

“I know,” I mumbled back.

“We selfish people have to do something for others for once.”

“I  _know,”_ I cried. “I know, but I don’t want to. I still love you, Chanyeol. And I know I haven’t said it before but I do.”

“I love you too,” he sighed, a content smile curling the corners of his mouth. “And it’s because I love you that I now know what I must do.”

“Not tonight,” I repeated over and over, “but not tonight.”

“No,” he agreed, “not tonight.”

He held me in his arms as we fell asleep, but I laid awake longer with my ear to his chest, begging to hear the heartbeat I knew wasn’t there, begging that it was all untrue. When morning came I was the first to wake as well after a night of fitful sleep, and I knew he could tell. But he comforted me so naturally and so easily that I couldn’t help but pray to the god I’d abandoned years ago – pray that there could be a happy ending for all of this.

The following day he told me a few things here or there when I asked, some easy and some frightening.

Like the color of his eyes – before his heart was taken his eyes were brown. The silvery flash I saw in the eyes of the performers’ was the sign of a contract with a demon. Over the years the contract deteriorated the color of the eyes until they were grey – the whiter the eyes the longer the contract.

I couldn’t really believe Chanyeol had been born over a century ago - something about that detail always seemed the most far-fetched. But after hearing his first-hand accounts about his life through the changing of eras I came to fully believe his story.

He told me that the temperature of his skin was yet another side-effect of his demon deal – without a pumping heart in his body his skin remained cold. But for the most part his body worked as normal. Even though the heart was absent the body still worked like a puppet and that’s what made the contract so dangerous - his time was frozen at the age he made the deal. I didn’t  _really_ understand, but I nodded anyway, and I tried to.

He told me that the master wasn’t always there in the center tent, but no one dared approach it anyway. He used to spend half his time in the spirit world and half on earth, but nowadays it was rare for him not to hang around.

He told me that over the years the troupe had become something like his new family, and he loved all of them dearly. But because he loved them he knew how much they had all suffered. And as the oldest of all the contracts they had placed him in charge – they all trusted him.

That would be the hardest part of all, he said. He didn’t tell me all the details of his plan, but in order to weaken Orthon he had to break all the contracts he kept, all of the things that bound him to this world. He didn’t tell me what that meant specifically, but I could tell from his expression that it was nothing good.

It was the middle of October when he finally told me everything.

Our camp was planted on the edge of a grove on a Mississippi farm for the week, and after our long talk we spent every night and day together that we could. I’m sure the rest of the camp was long past guessing about our relationship, but no one ever asked or bothered me about it – stranger things had happened.

We were laying in his bed when he finally told me the entirety of his plan.

“It’s coming soon,” Chanyeol said out of nowhere.

I suspected what he meant, but I sat up suddenly, staring down at him in surprise. “What is?”

“Judgement Day… and I need to tell you everything, but not here.”

“Is he here?” I whispered, and he nodded.

Before we left he searched through his trunk for a few minutes, rustling around and finally stowing something inside of his shirt. We snuck silently out of his tent in the night, taking one of the pick-up trucks we used to haul our trailers down the road to the other end of the great apple orchard. When we were hidden among the trees Chanyeol cut the engine and turned to me.

“Over the years I’ve learned a lot of things - things I haven’t even told the rest of the troupe about. I’ve learned a bit about magic, and I’ve come to be able to use it, but at great cost to my health. That’s how I’ve spread word of the circus. That’s how I freed you from the master’s enchantment on the crowd.”

I stared back at him, startled. “What have you done?”

“Here,” he said, thrusting the wrapped object at me that he had hidden in his shirt. I unwrapped the cloth and found a small dagger. “I’ve enchanted this dagger to the most of my abilities. We’ll use it to kill him… or more accurately,  _you_ will use it to kill him.”

“Me?”

“Yes. In order to break his hold on this world we have to destroy all his contracts… that is… we have to destroy all of the hearts in his possession.”

“If we destroy the hearts,” I asked pathetically, even though I knew the answer, “Won’t you die too?”

Chanyeol was solemn as he nodded. “It’s a small price to pay to stop him. The time I’m living on now isn’t my own anyways.” He stared sadly down at his hands, opening and closing them as if the feeling would comfort him. “It belongs to the lives of those I’ve stolen.”

I shook my head. “There has to be another way. Please don’t make me do this.”

He encompassed my smaller hands in his. “If there was any other way, I wouldn’t have to. I wouldn’t dare ask this of you…but I have to. I need you to do this for me. It’s what I want.”

“You’re selfish too,” I growled, wiping my eye of a stray tear. “And what the hell am I supposed to do if you’re gone?”

“Live as you were before, I suppose,” he sighed.

“That’s the worst thing you’ve ever said to me,” I argued miserably. “I’m supposed to watch you die and then move on with my life? Or better yet, pretend as if nothing ever happened? How are you really going to feel if I just pretend I hadn’t ever loved you?”

“I would understand. If I had lived naturally we would have never met anyways.”

“Bullshit!” I shouted. “So if I immediately move on to another man you’ll be satisfied?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“Then why don’t I just call Kyungsoo right now? You remember Kyungsoo, right?” I ranted angrily. “I’m sure if I told him I loved him he would come flying to me in a second. I told you about him, right? How we used to-“

“Baekhyun!” he warned me with a low growl.

“-fool around in our dorm room together. I know he still loves me. Maybe if it was him I could-“

“Stop!” he yelled, grabbing my flailing hands in his. “I understand! I was wrong! Okay?” He quieted down remarkably, and I could see as he stared at the space between us that his eyes were glistening. “So don’t talk about loving anyone else in front of me.”

I moved closer and wrapped my arms around him, cradling his head to my chest. “Then don’t tell me I have to pretend.”

I kissed the top of his head, then when he looked up at me I moved to his forehead, the tip of his nose, and then his mouth. We kissed and kissed until he rose up again over me, laying me down on my back across the bench seat with his legs between my thighs. His large hands moved sensually up and down my sides, sending a tingling sensation down to the tips of my toes.

Before the night was over I sat straddled atop him, writhing in a bittersweet pleasure that felt both like resolution and the end of an age. In the dawn we were left with nothing but the sound of crickets outside the windows to comfort us, knowing that the final day had drawn nearer still.

It was decided.

“Samhain,” he told me before I could ask. “At dusk on Halloween is when Samhain begins – it’s ancient tradition. The spiritual world and the human world grow inexplicably close together… On that day, Orthon will be at his most powerful, but he will also be at his most vulnerable. His heart will be human. That’s when we’ll finish this.”

My gut felt like lead. “Halloween… that’s only two weeks away. Are you sure you’re ready?”

“No,” he shook his head. “But I have to be. This is it. This is my last chance… and if we try and fail…” He swallowed thickly. “I don’t want to think about what Orthon could do.”

“The worst thing that could happen is that we could die,” I said dryly.

“I won’t let that happen!” he almost shouted, voice straining. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

I didn’t argue with him, though I knew I wanted to and that I could. I wanted to protest his protection of me – it felt far too one-sided. There had to be something I could do, something other than letting the man I loved die quietly like some pathetic side-character.

In the following days I borrowed one of the pick-up trucks from Wallace and drove for hours to the surrounding towns, visiting the local libraries, attempting to learn everything I could about demons. Unsurprisingly, the libraries in the Bible Belt weren’t very forthcoming on this topic, and I was very often redirected to the local churches – which I also tried. However, the week passed uneventfully, and as our show in Jackson, Mississippi came to a close the pit in my stomach expanded ever so greatly.

Thursday was to be the day all hell broke loose.

We set up camp somewhere in Lafourche County outside of New Orleans, and though Chanyeol begged me every waking second to stay with him before Judgement Day was upon us I couldn’t help but steal away whenever I could, trying to find a solution, any solution that would allow him to stay by my side when this was all over.

The closest I got was out in the bayou.

At the direction of a local by the edge of the marsh I visited a voodoo priestess named Sala. In desperation I confided in her the whole of my story and begged for her guidance. She couldn’t offer me much in the way of wisdom, only a charm to ward against evil. The talisman she gave me was a pearl bracelet that contained a satchel of Scarab Beetles and crushed white shell – she said it was a love charm used for healing and to ward against evil and fire. I thanked her greatly even for this small peace of mind and offered to pay her heavily. However she refused my money and sent me along with a sad smile, telling me to wear the bracelet and pray over its power.

I felt in the coming days that I, myself, were set to die, as if I had been told I was on death row. And I could see the life draining from Chanyeol’s eyes with every passing hour. I held the talisman tightly as I fell asleep in his arms each night, praying and praying until I had passed out of exhaustion.

By the morning of Samhain all of my preparations had been made. We would strike before midnight, when Samhain was at its peak, but until then there were few things left to do.

Neither of us left his tent for very long that day, choosing to stave off hunger in favor of spending more time with each other. Chanyeol was more talkative than usual too, telling me every little thing he could remember about his childhood, talking about his passage from France to America, telling me how he had always wished he had been able to live in New York.

He smiled but his sadness was too obvious. However, I listened with great compassion and smiled back at him, though I’m sure he could see my pain too.

Night came all too quickly, but we spent the last hours talking and talking about very simple things. There was no ‘I love you,’ no crying – only two people trying to make up for all the time they’d lost and would lose.

When it was time we stole out hand in hand in the darkness to the far side of the camp, and there we set the field on fire. We poured gas from the trucks onto the dead grass to fuel the blaze and watched smoke and fire roar into the sky, lighting the night  with red under the full moon.

We knew that everyone was asleep and no one had noticed it yet, so we crept quietly back through the camp. We needed to avoid the flame being put out before our work was finished.

We both heard him before we saw him, and Chanyeol hurriedly pulled me into an empty tent. Through the crack in the flap we watched Orthon’s horrid cloaked shape pass by us, and my heart pounded loudly with fear.  

As soon as he was gone Chanyeol took my hand and pulled me forward, winding me on a trail through the tents that he had clearly memorized. As we grew closer to the central tent I heard that odd sound over the chirping of crickets – that horrible unnatural sound that pounded thickly like rushing water. With every step we took it grew louder and louder until my own heartbeat matched the pace of the pounding.

“Here,” Chanyeol whispered, hurriedly removing the long cloak he was wearing and wrapping it around me until the hood nearly covered my eyes – it reached past my ankles. “I’ve enchanted this cloak against fire… just in case.”

He reached the tent first and pulled aside the flap, and I nearly wretched at first sight.

The inside of the central tent was awash with an unnatural red glow that came from the far wall. In shelves upon shelves on the wall stood at least thirty horrible gallon-sized jars filled with terrible, oozing red liquid, and from them was where the terrible whooshing sound originated. For inside of each jar was a pounding, live human heart.

I clenched at my own chest and held my stomach, too nauseous to take another step forward, but Chanyeol’s hand clamped tightly around my shoulder.

“Give me the dagger,” he said through gritted teeth, and when I looked up at him I could see that through his stoic expression tears were streaming down his face as he beheld the sight before him.

I gave it to him meekly, but he strode forward with bizarre power and unexpected resolution.

“I have to be quick,” he said, pulling the first jar from the top corner on the shelf. “He’ll feel this down to his very core… and I hope he does!”

With horror and apprehension I stood immobile as he swiftly dunked his hand into the jar, emerging with the limb covered in blood and the horrible beating  _thing_ clutched in his fist.

Chanyeol looked at me one last time before he began, his eyes filled with determination and mine with terror. “Baekhyun,” he said. “If one of these is mine… and I… and I  _go_ before I can finish…. Please…. You know what you must do.”

He brought the dagger down faster than I could keep track, stabbing the heart and stopping the beating so quickly I didn’t even have time to scream in horror. Jar after jar he ripped from the shelves with blinding speed, crying and nearly screaming as he silenced the pounding lives of each of his friends.

Dark thick blood spilled uncontrollably on the rugs below us and into the grass peeking between them. I could hardly watch this sick version of Russian roulette he was playing before my very eyes, but I forced myself to drown in the horror, waiting for the moment that would be his last with dreadful anticipation.

We both froze when we heard it, a terrible screech that didn’t sound like anything of this world. I saw Chanyeol’s eyes widen with fear as he ripped one of the last hearts from its jar, spearing it quickly.

The screech grew louder and the front of the tent ripped wide open, suddenly engulfed in flames. I screamed as a fire ball rocketed out of nowhere, hitting Chanyeol squarely in the chest and sending him flying away from the wall, the dagger falling at my feet.

I picked it up quickly with shaking hands, but I was unable to move as Orthon entered the space. I could see that everything behind him was lit with horrible dark flames – he had destroyed everything that had lay in his path to get here. His hands looked like white bone as they lowered the hood from his head, and I couldn’t stop the high scream that escaped my mouth when his face turned to me.

His skin was red and oozing, and he had no hair on his head, only black twisted ram horns that grew out of his skull near his temples. In the middle of his forehead was a third eye, and it blinked at me as it took in the entirety of the room.

“Baekhyun!” I heard Chanyeol cry, and I saw him rip his flaming clothes from his body, his blood soaked hands leaving trails on his skin. “Finish it now!”

Orthon turned toward his screaming and with a voice so dark and murderous screeched at him. “What are you doing to me!?” he hissed, grabbing for Chanyeol’s neck and holding him off the ground with ease.

I didn’t think or hesitate now as I ripped open the jar closest to me, staring straight at Chanyeol as I pulled the heart from its container. I stabbed it so hard that the knife dug into my hand on the other side and I cried out in pain.

Orthon screamed as if a hole were being ripped open inside him. He threw Chanyeol to the ground, who coughed and shook as he grasped his windpipe, which had been covered with a dark hand-shaped burn, and Orthon threw a blaze at the wall behind me, alighting everything but the last heart on fire and sending me flying forward.

He picked me up now, and his flames felt warm through the cloak but they could not burn me. However, his wretched bone hands squeezed my throat until I choked.

I could see from the corner of my eye Chanyeol try to stand up, try to crawl toward me, and as I felt the dagger in my hand I gripped it tightly in my palm, gaining courage by looking at his desperate face.

Through gasping breaths I spoke to him. “You were right, you know – what you said earlier. I am selfish… But you were also  _wrong._  Your time _isn’t_  your own or anyone else’s! It’s  _mine!”_

With my free hand I thrust the dagger through Orthon’s forehead, feeling the bone of his skull crumble beneath it, and when he dropped me I lunged forward, stabbing him through his own heart.

Orthon roared and the entire tent was reduced to ash around us, but I leapt away from him and screamed to Chanyeol.

_“Run!”_

I snatched the last jar from the shelf, letting the burning glass sear the flesh of my palms, and darted from the tent.

I didn’t stop to see if he was behind me, but I knew he was alive. I begged him to be. With his heart in my hands I ran and I ran through the flames, praying all the while that he would be able to withstand the heat. The cloak wrapped tightly around me kept me miraculously safe from the flames, but I sobbed as I saw what they’d done to the rest of the place.

Orthon’s unnatural flames had lit the whole field on fire in an instant, and I could see tents and things melting into nothing. I could hear the screams of animals and people all around me, wasting away in the heat. But I ran through it all.

I ran past the fire, into the darkness of the bog where only the light of the full moon could touch me. And when I reached a clearing I finally stopped.

I stopped because I realized that I could hear nothing but the sound of my breathing and the cicadas chirping around me. I held up the jar to my face, crying out as I ripped my burned flesh from the glass, and I looked inside.

The heart inside the bright oozing jar was still.

I let out a torturous scream that filled the air, scattering birds and bats and any other sort of creature that was nearby. I cried and I cried into my blood soaked hands, but my pain was not physical.

I held the jar tightly, wrapping my arms around it as if holding it closer I could hear its beat again.

But I did hear it – there was a faint whoosh of a pump of blood.

I wiped my swollen eyes on my shirt and looked again, and when the moonlight struck the jar just right I saw the faintest movement, heard the faintest beat of the heart.

In my desperation something came over me, I ripped the lid off of the jar and threw it to the ground. Then I pulled the talisman from my wrist and shoved my hand inside the jar. With the gentlest of touches I wrapped the pearl beads around the heart, and then I closed the jar.

I folded my burnt hands in prayer and I prayed to any gods or angels that might be listening. If demons existed then couldn’t god too?

It was unsteady at first, but after a few perilous moments the beating strengthened, and the tell-tale whoosh of the blood filled the forest around me.

I cried and I yelled, and then suddenly I couldn’t stop laughing. I laughed and I laughed maniacally as I picked up the jar, ignoring the pain in my body, and I sprinted through the bog. I weaved through trees and gnarled roots until finally I burst forth onto a road.

I walked the road until dawn, miles and miles until the city of New Orleans lay in front of me. I was lucky for the early hour because I looked a mess when I arrived at the motel, carrying a suspicious package inside my cloak and hands to elbows covered in dark, dried blood.

However, I didn’t encounter a soul before I knocked on the door of room 341.

Despite the hour the door opened in a flash, and Kyungsoo appeared in front of me in the doorway, expression a mixture of painful shock and release. Upon seeing him I nearly fainted, but I did collapsed into his arms weakly.

He carried me to the bed in stunned silence, but I didn’t allow him to ask any questions.

I coughed harshly, probably with ash still in my lungs, and I pulled the jar from inside my cloak, laying it on the table next to me.

“I did it, Kyungsoo,” I hacked as he stared with wide eyes at the beating thing. “It’s over. It’s over and I killed a demon to do it… I’m sorry I couldn’t meet you at the field. You must have been worried,” I rambled, “But it’s over now. It’s finally over… and he’s alive. You hear it too, right? The heart is beating. He’s alive!”

I sat up suddenly and Kyungsoo exclaimed as he tried to stop me. “Woah! Baekhyun, you shouldn’t move yet!”

But I shouted over him. “Please, Kyungsoo! Drive me back! I need to see if he’s alive! I need to-“

“Baekhyun!” Kyungsoo yelled aggressively shaking me by the shoulders, effectively ending my rant and surprising me into silence. “He’s alive,” he said simply.

“What? How do you know?” I demanded.

Kyungsoo crossed the room to the bathroom and slowly opened the door. When I sat up I could just see into the small room.

Lying in the bathtub was Chanyeol, his eyes closed and his head resting on the side of the porcelain tub. Without regard I scrambled over towards him, my hands dipping into the freezing water and cradling his head, examining the great burn on his chest.

“He’s only passed out,” said Kyungsoo, leaning against the doorway, examining me stoically as I cried. “I went to the field early this morning like you told me to, but everything was already on fire. It was horrible… there were a lot of people running around, but I found him laying down by the edge of road close to the fire. If he had passed out any sooner… he probably wouldn’t have made it.”

“Thank you,” I cried. “Thank you.”

“I couldn’t find you… and no one had seen you, so I assumed you had-,“ Kyungsoo cut himself off abruptly, a rare emotion in his eyes. “I didn’t want to think that, but there wasn’t anything else to think… But I put him in my car because I knew it’s what you’d want, and I brought him back here.”

I stood and encircled Kyungsoo in my arms, squeezing him until his shaking stopped. “Thank you, Kyungsoo. Thank you for everything,” I repeated over and over again.

Suddenly, I heard a groan behind me, and I spun on my heel. Chanyeol’s long lashes were fluttering, and his body shivered. I swooped down with a thick towel and raised his upper body from the water, wrapping him in it tightly.

He came to slowly, and he stared at me with half-lidded eyes for a long while before he realized he wasn’t dreaming.

“Baekhyun?” he asked, reaching for me slowly, though his chest caved with pain.

“It’s me,” I answered. I held my hands out to him but flinched when I touched his cheek, the adrenaline finally rushing off and the pain finally filling my hands.

“Your hands!” he coughed, staring at me with horror.

“It’s nothing,” I replied, unable to stop smiling.

“Not nothing!”

“No, not nothing. “My hands touched his cheeks gently. “But we’re alive,” I said.

He looked from me to the jar across the room, spying his own beating heart that was now wrapped in blood soaked pearls. He closed his eyes and he gingerly took my hands in his, pulling me to him softly to kiss my forehead.

“We’re alive,” he repeated.

 

 

  
  


\- EPILOGUE –

Had only hours passed since he’d started his story?

The way he described his horror to me had been so vivid that I felt like I had lived this tale of terror right next to him. Only the darkness outside and the ticking of the strange whooshing clock alerted me to the hours that had passed. But despite the extravagance of the tale I still had so many questions.

“Mr. Byun, Sir?” I asked.

“Call me Baekhyun,” he replied with a small smile, looking up from where he had been staring at his scarred hands.

“Baekhyun,” I corrected meekly. “What happened after that?”

He almost laughed. “Is it not obvious that we lived happily ever after?”

I shook my head. “I know… I know now how difficult this must have been to talk about, but how does the story end? Orthon… did he really die?”

Baekhyun nodded and I felt my heart turn in a little circle. “I killed him with my own hands that night.”

“But what about Chanyeol? Wouldn’t his contract have kept Orthon tied to the human world?”

“I wondered the same thing all those years ago, and for the first few weeks after the fire we were both filled with terrible nightmares, visions of Orthon returning for us – to burn us.

“So I visited the woman who had given me the talisman, and she offered me an explanation. Although I’m still not sure I believe it.

“She said that the talisman had created a new contract with the heart. She said that my prayers had kept the heart alive through sheer force of willpower, and that the heart was now bound to me, which sustained its life force and broke the old spell on it. However, since the old contract was now broken, its magic would no longer keep Chanyeol young.”

“So, Chanyeol… is he?”

“We parted ways with Kyungsoo,” he continued, “and he vowed to never speak about this again… Chanyeol and I went back to New York to fulfill his dream of living there. And for about six months I pretended that everything was normal, even though it was difficult to go back to work. The Bureau had ordered Internal Affairs to investigate me, but after a disciplinary hearing I was let off the hook because they were unable to find significant evidence that I had broken the law.

“But as you know, I eventually broke down. We were still having nightmares – the both of us – about the Cirque going up in flames, about the hearts we had destroyed. And even though Chanyeol wouldn’t talk about it I knew he was broken inside. He may have cleared his conscience of everything else, but I knew how he had hurt himself. He still blamed himself for his friends – his family – for breaking their contracts by force, and I knew he wouldn’t stop.

“Soon the city was too much. Everyday returning to work and seeing new cases… I couldn’t bear the thought of all the families I had let down in my search. I couldn’t tell anyone what I knew – I couldn’t say that their children weren’t coming home. So we left.

“I ripped the report from its pages and I quit. We fled the city, and we traveled around, keeping a low profile until we ended up here. And we decided that we would live out the rest of our days here, quietly and unnoticed. We had a few visitors here and there, but not for anything significant… at least not until you came around.”

“Chanyeol, then?” I asked. “What happened to Chanyeol? Did he ever get older?”

“Can’t you hear it?” he asked me after a moment of silence, a rather horrible smile on his face. “Haven’t you been listening?”

In the silence I listened to the sounds of the house, the floorboards creaking with weight and the strange whooshing noise from the clock in the hall. Then I realized what he meant, and I saw on his face that he’d seen my face alight.

He stood suddenly and led me to the hallway, to a thick cupboard by the stairs. When he opened it my face was bathed in red light from the jar, and inside it I saw the heart, beating slowly like a ticking clock, wrapped in dark beads and floating horribly in the dark water.

_Th-thump. Th-thump._

I stood still until Baekhyun returned, only because I hadn’t noticed he’d left.

“I’d like to introduce you to someone, Suho,” he said, and when I finally tore my face away from the cabinet there he was, living and breathing.

He was still tall, even in his old age, and I could tell from the shape of his face and eyes that he must have been quite handsome. He even smiled at me, holding Baekhyun by the hand and looking between us with his grey, faded eyes.

Suddenly Baekhyun’s story flooded back at me with new force. It was real. Everything he said was real – magic, and blood, and demons – all real.

My knees shook so hard I nearly fell to the ground.

“How do I forget this?” I asked them desperately. “How do I go back to normal?”

Baekhyun simply shook his head, but Chanyeol was the one who answered.

“Pretend. First you pretend. Live your life as you once did. Pretend everything is normal… but never forget. Even when we are gone don’t forget our story. Don’t forget where selfishness can get you.”

“But don’t forget love,” Baekhyun said softly. “Don’t forget that love can save you… no matter who it comes from.”

I left the house that night as if I were in a dream.

I went back to work as if everything was normal, and I spoke to my friends as if I wasn’t tormented by a horrible secret.

But as I lay in bed at night I dreamed of fire and laughter, and I always awoke clutching my heart praying it hadn’t been ripped out through my chest.

The sound of a heartbeat – something that used to bring me such comfort, a sound that used to assure me I was alive – now filled me with such fear.

I did all I could to forget, and sometimes I did, but it was always in those odd moments of calm that I remembered, that I heard it – my heartbeat pounding wildly in my chest.

And when I heard it I was transported back to another time, another place - those horrible shelves where hearts stood beating in jars, all in a row.

_Th-thump. Th-thump._


End file.
